Accidental Heroes
by Laine3112
Summary: SUMMARY: - While investigating a murder at a remote country property, Tony, McGee and Palmer are cut off from the others by a hurricane. One is dangerously ill. Can the others keep him alive and can Gibbs get to them in time?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:- I do not own NCIS or any of its characters. Any copyright infringement is unintentional.**

**Chapter 1**

**SUMMARY: - While investigating a murder at a remote country property, Tony, McGee and Palmer are cut off from the others by a hurricane. One is dangerously ill. Can the others keep him alive and can Gibbs get to them in time?**

It was Friday 1800 hours and Tony was seated at his desk. He was finishing the last of the paperwork from the Harrison case that they had successfully closed earlier that afternoon.

Ben Harrison was a 23-year-old midshipman accused of the savage beating of his ex-girlfriend. Harrison had gone UA from his posting at Norfolk but Gibbs' team had managed to locate him. Unfortunately, when Harrison spotted the team closing in, he took off like a startled rabbit. He was deceptively fast and easily outdistanced both McGee and Tony over the first 100 yards.

McGee slowed to phone in their location and direction to Gibbs and Ziva who were in the sedan attempting to intercept their course. Over the longer distance Tony's fitness proved superior and he quickly started to make up ground. They had sprinted for 2 city blocks, before a flying tackle by Tony brought Harrison to the ground. He made no further attempt to resist arrest as Tony quickly cuffed both hands behind his back. Harrison and Tony remained on the ground sucking in deep breaths as they waited for the rest of the team to arrive.

Gibbs brought the sedan to a halt with the usual screech of tires and acrid smell of burning of rubber. Tony dragged Harrison to his feet and guided him into the backseat of the car where Ziva began to advise him of his Article 31 rights. He grimaced a little as he leant against the car, still breathing heavily.

"You okay, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked.

"Sure, Boss," Tony answered. "Just a stitch. Nothing to worry about."

After they had returned to the office, Harrison had quickly wilted under the pressure of Gibbs' interrogation technique and had provided a full and detailed confession in near record time. Only thing left to do now was to write up their reports and head out for the weekend.

Tony had been looking forward to this weekend for months. Not only was this to be the team's first break in four weeks, but his good friend and frat buddy, Jason Matthews, was getting married in three weeks time and, as best man, Tony had organized the bachelor party.

He could barely keep the smile from his face as he hastily typed his report, printed it out and placed it on Gibbs' desk. He swung his backpack over his shoulder and turned to his younger teammate.

"Don't do anything that I wouldn't do, Probalicious!!" He paused slightly, "and if you do…take pictures!!"

McGee gave him a wan smile. "See you Monday, Tony." After a sudden thought he added. "Hey, Tony! What about the hurricane? Won't dampen your big plans for the bachelor party, will it?"

"No way, Probie! According to the National Weather Service, that hurricane isn't even headed in this direction. Besides, our plans are strictly of the indoor variety." He gave McGee a wink and turned to leave. McGee didn't even want to think about what he meant by that.

Ziva, Gibbs and Abby entered the bullpen just as Tony was leaving.

"Did I say you could go, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked.

"You said we could leave once we'd finished our reports, Boss," Tony answered, praying that they hadn't been assigned another case. "My report is on your desk, so I was just-". Tony pointed his hand towards the elevator, indicating his intention to leave. However after recognizing the dark expression on Gibbs' face he quickly moved his hand to point at his desk. "- I was just gonna wait at my desk until you say I can leave."

Ziva and Abby smiled as they watched Tony's expression change from delight to despair in seconds and he sat sullenly at his desk, muttering under his breath.

Gibbs knew of Tony's plans for the weekend but couldn't resist the opportunity to yank his chain a little. Seated at his own desk he picked up Tony's report, noting in his peripheral vision, that Tony was watching him anxiously and waiting to be excused.

Gibbs read through the report. In true DiNozzo style, it was concise, accurately detailed and contained all required information – no more, no less. He noted the younger man's pained expression, as he checked his watch for the fourth time in as many minutes. Gibbs read the report a second time as Tony huffed his impatience.

Finally Gibbs head shot up to look in Tony's direction. "DiNozzo!" he said brusquely, barely containing his grin as Tony practically launched himself out of his chair. "Is this a draft copy or your _final_ report?"

Tony looked panicked. "It's my final report, Boss," he said tentatively. "Is there a problem?"

Gibbs' eyes narrowed highlighting his peeved expression. Tony was bracing for the onslaught. "DiNozzo, this report-" he said. "-this report is fine. Get outta here, see you Monday."

"Yes!!" Tony said excitedly pumping his fists in the air. "See you Monday!" he called over his shoulder as he ran for the elevator.

Abby called out mischievously. "Hey, Tony!! Don't forget! The groom's supposed to get stripped naked and tied to the traffic light, not the best man! Watch your back! Remember what happened last time?"

Ziva and McGee exchanged stunned looks.

Abby shrugged. "It's a long story…. but a _very_ good one!" she said with a wicked smile.

Work was almost behind him and the weekend with his frat brothers beckoned. The elevator doors were almost closed when, unbelievably, he heard Gibbs bellow again. "DiNozzo!"

Tony placed his hand between the closing elevator doors and desperately tried to disguise the exasperated expression on his face. "Boss?" he answered.

"Remember, you are an NCIS Special Agent, not a frat boy on spring break – behave yourself!"

The words from Tony's mouth said "Yes, Boss!" but the split watermelon grin on his face said the opposite as the doors finally closed and he was gone.

**--o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0-**

Truth be told, Tony's weekend with his frat brothers was not going to be anywhere near as raunchy or salacious as his teammates thought. They imagined strip clubs and lap dances; beer bongs, copious amounts of alcohol, scantily dressed, buxom girls and corny pickup lines. Tony didn't deny their presumptions; hell, he openly encouraged them. After all, the "Sex Machine" had an image to maintain.

He met his friends for drinks before heading out to watch the Washington Wizards from the courtside seats that had cost them each a week's salary. After the game, they went to dinner and a nightclub where, admittedly, there _was_ a lot of alcohol; the odd scantily clothed buxom girl and the odd corny pick up line.

They left the noisy, over crowded nightclub and headed for an Irish Pub that was located about a 15 minute walk from Tony's apartment – or a 20 minute stagger, depending on your alcohol intake. There they revelled in the familiarity of good friends, easy companionship and lots of old stories that had grown larger than life in the years since college. After grabbing a couple of chilidogs from the sidewalk vendor, they called it a night at 0400 and headed for home.

Although not directly in its path, Washington DC was already feeling the effects as the hurricane built up force and momentum, bringing torrential rain and gale force winds. There were reports of wide spread damage and flooding but mainly in the more rural areas surrounding the city. Tony woke once or twice to the sound of buffeting winds and heavy rain against his bedroom window and bemoaning the chilidogs that were waging a tempest of their own in his stomach.

Later that afternoon, feeling a little worse for wear, but fortified by a supply of vitamin B, antacid and Tylenol, Tony joined his college pals at the gym for a game of basketball. Their annual Buckeye reunion match against a local amateur league team coincided beautifully with the bachelor party weekend. Tony showed that while he had lost a modicum of speed since his glory days as starting point guard for Ohio State, he had lost little of his skill. During the forth quarter, he called for a time out and a substitution as a sharp pain pierced his lower abdomen. He remembered feeling the same pain after chasing down midshipman Harrison on Friday. The pain had disappeared within minutes, so he dismissed it as another stitch and subbed back into the game.

By Saturday evening it was back to Tony's apartment for beer, pizza, more exaggerated stories and an all night poker game with the brothers. Tony was still unable to shake the residual effects of the previous night and after only two beers, decided to stick to water. This attracted quite a few barbs from his frat brothers who fondly recalled that the "Sex Machine of old" had the constitution of an ox. These days, despite what some would say, Tony knew his limits.

The storm was still raging over the city and surrounding areas. At one stage, a power outage had everyone rummaging around for candles and matches, but the poker game continued well into the early hours of the morning. There was a brief break in the storm at around 0530 when "last hand" was called. By 0600, Tony had waved goodbye to the last of his frat brothers. The normally house-proud agent grimaced at the empty beer bottles, pizza boxes and potato chip bags strewn around his apartment but as he still wasn't feeling too well, he decided the cleanup could wait until he'd had some sleep and he headed to his bedroom.

The storm had returned with a vengeance. Sheet and fork lightning and deafening thunder added their presence to the devastating winds and pelting rain. Tony pulled the covers a little higher and hunkered down to sleep, still feeling nauseous and wondering how he had survived four years of hard-core partying during college.

Three hours later, the front door of his apartment silently opened and a man stepped cautiously inside. The darkened apartment looked trashed. Eyes sharp, he removed his side arm from its holster. Passing through the living room he quietly stepped into the bedroom, reaching his arm out towards the sleeping man.

**--o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0—**

**Thanks for reading, L**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:- I do not own NCIS or any of its characters. Any copyright infringement is unintentional.**

**Chapter 2**

Tony sensed rather than heard the uninvited presence hovering above him. In an instant he struck out with his elbow, hard into the solar plexus of the intruder. As the man fell to the floor winded, Tony flung himself from the bed. Grabbing the other man's weapon from his hand, he placed the barrel under the man's chin and cocked it.

"Tony, it's me!" McGee shouted, his face pale and eyes wide with shock and surprise.

"Jesus, McGee!" Tony yelled. "I could have killed you! What the hell are you doing here? Don't you knock?"

Rubbing his stomach just below the ribs, McGee sat on the end of Tony's bed until he regained his breath.

"I did knock. I called you too! Why didn't you pick up?" he gasped.

Tony looked to the bedside table where he normally kept his cell. "Where's my cell?" he wondered aloud.

Leaving McGee to regain his breath, Tony groaned as he saw the mess in his living room.

He called over his shoulder. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"We came to get you. We've got a case."

McGee joined in the search for the missing cell and placed the handset of the landline phone back in its cradle.

"We?" Tony asked, suddenly looking very nervous.

"Yeah," McGee answered calmly. "Gibbs and Ziva are downstairs waiting in the vehicle!" Tony turned in horror.

"Gibbs is downstairs?" he asked.

McGee nodded.

"Now?" Tony asked again.

Another nod.

"Waiting for me?"

A third nod _and_ a confused look.

"And you don't think that's something you should have told me, like, 5 minutes ago?"

"Five minutes ago, I tried to tell you and you knocked me on my ass," McGee defended as his cell rang. He winced as he read the caller ID and took the call.

Tony went back into his room and dressed quickly. Forcing his feet into his trainers he listened to McGee's side of the short conversation as he quickly brushed his teeth and washed his face.

"Yes, Boss….he's here….no, he's fine, Boss….we're on our way down."

McGee glanced around the messy living room.

"Looks like you had a good night?" When Tony just groaned he added. "You're gonna need a coat, Tony. It's pelting down out there."

Tony grabbed his ID, his Sig and a coat and McGee found the errant cell under the cushions on the couch. Tony locked his apartment door as he and McGee quickly made their way to the elevator.

"How'd you get in, anyway?" Tony asked as the elevator doors closed behind them.

McGee shrugged nonchalantly. "I picked the lock."

"_**You**_ picked the lock?" Tony said sceptically.

"I've been practising, okay?" he said looking aggrieved.

Tony tilted his head and raised a disbelieving eyebrow at him.

"Okay, Gibbs gave me your spare key," McGee confessed, "but I could have picked your lock if I had more time."

"The day you pick my lock, Probie, is the day I hand you your ass," Tony warned. "Anyway, isn't this supposed to be our weekend off?"

"Tell that to Gibbs," McGee stated as they exited the lift and ran through the heavy rain to the backseat of the waiting SUV.

**--0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0--**

"It's about damn time!" Gibbs growled as the vehicle screeched away from the curb.

"And good morning to you, Boss," Tony replied laconically. Switching into agent mode he asked. "What have we got?"

"Marine suspected of murder and kidnapping," Gibbs explained. "Reportedly killed his wife's lover then took his wife by force and fled the scene. They haven't been seen since. Abby will have details shortly."

"Where did this happen, Boss?" McGee asked.

"On a property outside of Fredricktown, Virginia." Gibbs replied. "It's about a three hour drive from here."

"Boonies," McGee whispered to Tony. "What happened to the Duty Team?"

"They caught another case," Gibbs replied. "As did the On-Call Team. So that left us."

"The National Weather Service has warned people not to use the roads during the hurricane," Ziva said from the front passenger seat. "Should we not wait until the worst of it has passed?"

"Nope." Gibbs replied. "Hurricanes have been known to last days. We have a marine suspected of a brutal murder and he is still at large. County Sheriff's department is up to their necks with evacuation and emergency services work. We need to find Kirby and his wife before somebody else gets hurt. Ducky and Palmer are already on their way."

They all settled back for the journey as Gibbs steered the vehicle out of the city towards Fredricktown. The silence was disturbed by the shrill ring tone of Gibbs' cell. He answered with his usual, "Gibbs."

"Hang on, Abs, I'll put you on speaker." He tossed the phone to Ziva as Abby's voice filled the car.

"I have that information you wanted," she said. "Hey, did you find Tony? Please tell me that you didn't find him tied to another traffic light 'cause once _really_ should have been enough, even for him!"

"Yeah, Abs, we found him," Gibbs replied patiently.

"Fully clothed this time?" she persisted.

"_**Abs**_, what have you got for us?" Gibbs asked, ignoring the question.

"Oh, right. Marine Gunnery Sergeant William Kirby. Reported UA four days ago. According to his CO, Kirby is a first class marine. A week ago, his wife asked him for a divorce. Tipped him over the edge," Abby explained. "I've emailed a copy of his service record to Ziva's laptop."

"What did you find out about the murder?" Gibbs asked.

"I spoke with a Sheriff Cade. He said that it appears Kirby came home unexpectedly and found his wife with another man," Abby continued. "He put four bullets in the boyfriend and left the scene with his wife."

"How do they know that the wife did not go willingly? Ziva asked.

"A friend from town stopped by thinking that Mrs Kirby was alone in the storm," Abby answered. "He saw Kirby carry his wife to the car. Said she appeared to be unconscious."

"Or dead," McGee offered.

"Anyway, the friend waited until they left, then went into the house. He found the body and phoned the Sheriff. I emailed the directions to Kirby's property to McGee's PDA."

"Okay Abs, thanks" Gibbs replied.

"Wait, Gibbs! The National Weather Service has advised that the hurricane is heading for the Fredricktown area with gale force winds, lots of lightning and cyclonic rain. You're heading right into it," she warned. "Did I mention the lightning?"

"We know, Abs. We'll be fine," Gibbs said calmly. He could imagine the Goth scientist twisting a pigtail around her finger and chewing on her bottom lip with concern.

"Wait, Gibbs I'm not finished. Did you know that in this country alone, 90 people die every year from lightning strikes? Not the same 90 people of course, that would be ridiculous and - also impossible - but 90 people every year!! And what about that Park Ranger from Shenandoah National Park? He was struck by lightning on seven different occasions, Gibbs, seven! Talk about a human lightning rod – he has worse luck than Tony," Abby said the worry evident in her voice.

"Abs…we'll be careful. We'll call you later, " Gibbs assured her before flipping the cell closed.

Abby wasn't convinced. She wrapped her arms around her masspectrometer and said softly. I have a bad feeling about this, Major Mass Spec."

Gibbs drove at close to his usual speed, despite having to negotiate the treacherous conditions. Thirty minutes later, a groan from the backseat caused him to glance in the rear view mirror at the pale reflection of his senior field agent. His eyes were noticeably bloodshot and he looked nauseous. Tony's eyes widened suddenly and he sat bolt upright in his seat.

"Boss…you need to pull over!!" he gasped urgently.

"Tony?? Are you okay??" McGee asked. Although he was genuinely worried about his partner, it didn't escape Tony's notice that McGee moved out of puking range – just in case.

The SUV fishtailed to a halt in the wet conditions and Tony threw himself from the vehicle and ran behind the nearby trees. The rain continued to pour as sounds of his vomiting reached the car. A few moments later, Tony climbed wordlessly back into the vehicle. His clothes were drenched and his rain slicked hair clung to his head,

As Gibbs guided the SUV back onto the road, Ziva handed Tony a bottle of water and McGee helped him to remove his wet jacket.

"How much did you have to drink last night, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked eyeing his agent in the rear view mirror.

"Just two beers, Boss," Tony replied.

Ziva laughed. "Two beers did _that _to you?" she asked incredulously. "You are the man who can bang a beer in under 6 seconds, are you not?"

"It's _bong_ a beer, Zee-vah," Tony retorted, "and for your information, it was not two beers that did this to me, it was two freakin' chilidogs."

"Food poisoning?" McGee asked.

"It's not food poisoning, McGee, just an upset stomach," Tony hissed.

"I have never heard a hangover called an upset stomach before," Ziva continued to taunt.

"Boss, I swear, I only had two beers last night. Granted, I didn't get much sleep, but this is _not_ a hangover," Tony snapped irritably.

Gibbs and Tony exchanged a glance in the rear view mirror. Tony visibly relaxed when Gibbs gave him a curt nod, belief evident in his eyes. He knew Tony wouldn't lie to him.

Gibbs forced his mind back to the case and instructed his subordinates.

"Ziva, check Kirby's service record for family or friends in the area. See if you can find out where he might be headed. McGee, get the directions to Kirby's property ready. I'll need you to guide us in when we get closer."

The younger agents both acknowledged with a "yes, Gibbs" and got straight to work.

Gibbs took another look at Tony's reflection. He was clearly not well and battling to keep his eyes open.

"DiNozzo," he said. "Get some rest, you look like crap."

He noted Tony's lack of protest with concern as the younger man immediately closed his eyes and leant his head back in an attempt to sleep. He dozed restlessly for the next hour or so.

They turned off the main highway on to the country road leading to Fredricktown. Gibbs was forced to reduce his speed due to the inferior quality of the country road. The storm buffeted their vehicle from all directions and Gibbs fought the wheel to keep the SUV on the road. The torrential rain was often too heavy for the windscreen wipers, severely reducing visibility. Thunder cracked loudly overhead and the lightning lit up a sky darkened by the storm.

Forty-five minutes later, Gibbs caught sight of the Coroner's van stopped up ahead.

"We've got trouble," he said.

Pulling along side, he wound down his window to speak with Ducky.

"Jethro! Thank heavens you're here," Ducky shouted over the storm.

"Are you alright, Duck?" Gibbs asked. "What happened?"

"Yes, yes, we're quite alright." Ducky indicated the fork in the road. "It seems Mr Palmer here has got us lost again. We weren't sure whether to turn right or left so we decided to wait for you."

"Why didn't you call us?" McGee asked loudly.

"We knew you'd be along sooner or later, this being the only road into Fredricktown," Palmer yelled, competing with the howling wind.

McGee rechecked the directions to Kirby's property. It was located 20 miles from Fredricktown. Travelling ten miles further along this road, they would come to a private access road leading to the Kirby property. Once they had crossed the bridge over the Blackwater River, the house was situated another five miles on.

Gibbs took the lead in the SUV, careful to keep the coroners van in his sight at all times.

They crossed the antiquated wooden bridge noting that the river below was rapidly rising and about to break its banks. The next five miles to the Kirby house was more like a goat track. The torrential rain had gouged large trenches in the unsealed road and both vehicles slipped and slid in the mud. Being four-wheel drive, the SUV managed the conditions adequately.

Palmer and Ducky were bounced and tossed about in the coroners van but the agents were quietly impressed with Palmer's ability to keep the van on the road without getting it bogged. They were in no doubt that Palmer was being regaled with stories of similar experiences Ducky had encountered in some far away location.

**--0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0--**

Arriving at the Kirby house, they found a young Deputy Sheriff waiting for them. Deputy Rob Lewis was an intelligent young man in his early twenties – born and bred in Fredricktown Virginia. He was keen to prove to the Federal Agents that the County Sheriffs Department was not the Keystone Cops. He had taped off the area in anticipation of their arrival and had marked the boot prints belonging to himself and the witness to separate them from those of the perpetrator and the victim.

Deputy Lewis advised that the body of Mrs Kirby's lover was still in the house and had been identified as Daniel Johnson, also of Fredricktown. The agents grabbed their gear and began to shoot; sketch; bag and tag. Gibbs sent McGee and Deputy Lewis outside to the barn to take a statement from the witness who had been so traumatised by finding the body that he had refused to re-enter the house.

Over the course of the next 60 minutes, the team set about processing the crime scene.

Ducky inserted the liver probe into Daniel Johnson's body to establish a time of death. The man had died approximately four to five hours ago. The body had received four gunshot wounds, two to the heart and two to the head. The Gunny had meant business.

Ziva called from the other side of the room.

"There is blood here but not enough to indicate serious injury or death," she said. "But I found this." In her hand, she held a small rag. Bringing it within six inches of her face, she gave it a quick sniff and turned her head away quickly.

"Chloroform," she said as she placed it into an evidence bag. "It looks like Mrs Kirby _was_ taken against her will."

Tony was doing his best to concentrate on sketching and taking measurements of the crime scene but the pain in his stomach had returned. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to relax his stomach muscles. His hawk-eyed Boss noticed his discomfort.

"DiNozzo?" he asked with just a hint of concern in his voice.

"I'm good, Boss," Tony replied. When he saw the look of disbelief on Gibbs' face he added. "Still a bit queasy, that's all."

"Get Ducky to take a look at you!" he instructed. Tony opened his mouth to protest when Deputy Lewis and McGee came rushing back inside.

"Boss!" McGee said breathlessly. "Sheriff Cade got a report of a car in a gully about 13 miles from here. He said to tell you that it's Kirby. He and his wife are both dead."

"Can you take us there?" Gibbs asked the Deputy.

"I'll take my car and lead you there," Lewis replied.

"Ziva and Ducky, you're with me," he ordered. "DiNozzo! You, McGee and Palmer finish up here and meet us at the crash site."

"I'll get my gear," Ducky said. Gibbs nodded.

Gibbs, Ziva and Ducky headed for the front door of the house; ready to make a dash to the SUV through the pelting rain. Gibbs looked back over his shoulder at Tony. The younger agent had returned his attention to his sketchbook and the job at hand but he still looked tired and pale.

Ducky noticed the frown forming on Gibbs' face.

"Jethro?" he asked. "Is something wrong?"

"No, Duck, just a feeling in my gut. Let's go!" he said as he hugged his coat around him and sprinted for the vehicle.

**--o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0—**


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

**Chapter 3**

After Gibbs, Ziva and Ducky had left for the crash site, Tony, McGee and Palmer continued processing the rest of the murder scene. Tony felt increasingly nauseous and the stomach cramps were becoming more severe. He moved quickly to the bathroom as the need to vomit overwhelmed him. As he emptied his stomach of it's meagre contents, McGee and Palmer stood together in the living room.

"Is Tony alright?" Palmer asked worriedly.

"We think he may have food poisoning, Jimmy," McGee answered.

Once the retching had subsided, Tony made his way back into the living room. Palmer retrieved a glass of water from the kitchen and gave it to him, leading him to the couch.

"You should sit down, Tony," Palmer advised.

For once, Tony didn't argue, he felt terrible.

"We're finished here now," McGee said. "I'll help Palmer load the body and the gear into the van and we'll go meet the others."

They quickly gathered the gear and placed the body on the gurney and into the van for the trip back to Washington. Walking back into the house to get Tony, they found him doubled over in pain. Jimmy knelt in front of him and placed his palm on Tony's forehead.

"Tony, you're burning up!" he said. "You sure this is food poisoning?"

"Yep," Tony gasped through clenched teeth. "Bad chilidog... very bad!"

"I'll check the medicine cabinet, see if there's anything in there that can help you. Then we need to get you to Dr Mallard as soon as possible. You should keep sipping that water."

"I'll turn the van around and warm the engine," McGee said running back into the storm.

Jimmy returned with some Tylenol. "It's not much but it may help your headache and reduce your fever a little," he said.

After Tony had swallowed the tablets without complaint, Jimmy produced a small thermometer. Tony eyed it suspiciously before reluctantly placing it under his tongue. He removed it a few moments later and handed it to Palmer – it read 101-7.

McGee appeared back in the doorway. "Ah, guys," he said. "The van won't go."

"What do you mean it won't go, Probie?" Tony asked anxiously.

"Well, the engine started but sounded really sluggish," he said. "I put it into first gear and it just won't move."

"Did you try any other gears? Second? Reverse?" Tony asked, battling another wave of nausea.

"Yep," McGee replied. "Same result."

"We had the van serviced last week," Palmer added. "It was fine on the way up here."

McGee and Palmer had the same look of bewilderment that Tony often got when listening to McGee's techno-babble or Palmer explaining the intricate workings of the human cellular structure. The mechanics of a motor vehicle was definitely not their strong suit.

"I better take a look," Tony said, struggling to his feet.

He made it out of the house and within ten feet of the van before another sharp pain robbed him of his breath and doubled him over again. The others were at his side instantly. McGee held Tony's bicep to support some of his weight and Palmer instructed him to inhale deeply and breathe through the pain.

Tony was doing as instructed, breathing deeply through his nose and waiting for the pain in his stomach to subside. The strong winds bit through their already wet clothing as they helped Tony back into the house.

"Oil," Tony muttered. "I smelt oil." McGee and Palmer exchanged a baffled look.

"Probie, I think the…the gearbox housing may… have been damaged," Tony gasped. "I need to take a look to see how bad it is."

"No," McGee said firmly. "You should rest, I'll do it."

He rose to his feet and walked out the door in the direction of the van.

Tony raised one hand, his index finger pointing skyward.

"Wait for it, Palmer!" he muttered, tilting his head slightly as if listening for something.

Seconds later McGee reappeared in the living room. "Um, just what is it that I'm looking for and where will I find it?" he asked.

Tony looked back at Palmer.

"Just as I thought," he said with a wan smile.

He described the gearbox housing and it's location to McGee who climbed under the van to check it. Walking back into the house a few moments later, he confirmed Tony's suspicions. The gearbox housing had a hole the size of a golf ball and had leaked a huge puddle of oil underneath the van.

"What does that mean?" Palmer asked.

"It means we're screwed," Tony responded as he rose shakily to his feet and headed to the bathroom as quickly as he could.

From their position in the living room, they could hear the harsh sounds of Tony vomiting again.

"I don't like this, McGee," Palmer said with concern. "He has a fever of nearly 102, headaches and severe stomach pain. I think this may be more than food poisoning."

McGee looked worried. "What do you think it could be?" he asked.

"Appendicitis," Palmer replied.

McGee immediately took the cell from his pocket and pressed Gibbs on his speed dial. The call was answered on the first ring with a brusque "Gibbs".

McGee tried to keep his voice calm. "We've got trouble, Boss."

**--0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0--**

The return journey from the Kirby's house to the crash site was more hazardous than the trip in. The unrelenting rain had deepened the grooves and crevices in the unsealed road making it heavy going even for the four-wheel drive vehicle. Manoeuvring the coroner's van back down this road was going to take some doing.

They reached the old wooden bridge. The river has risen considerably in the three hours since they had arrived and it had broken its banks. The bridge groaned from the weight of the SUV and the pressure of the fast flowing current. Gibbs, Ziva and Ducky breathed a collective sigh of relief when they made it safely to the other side.

Back on sealed road, the remaining distance to the crash site was covered quickly. They saw the police vehicles ahead and quickly pulled in behind them. Showing their ID's, Gibbs held Ducky by the elbow to steady him, as they made their way down the steep and slippery embankment to the wrecked vehicle.

Gibbs strode over to make himself known to Sheriff Cade. After the introductions, the Sheriff reported.

"One of my Deputies was patrolling the road looking for storm damage. He noticed part of the guardrail missing from the road and knew it had been intact a few days ago. He looked down here and spotted the car. He saw that they were both dead and called it in. We contacted you, Agent Gibbs and we called the ambulance."

Gibbs nodded his head. "We'll need his statement for our case file," he said. "Also his prints to eliminate them from any others we find."

"I'll see that you get them," the Sheriff concurred.

Ducky immediately went to the overturned car. He looked through the shattered passenger side window. Mrs Kirby's sightless eyes looked back at him. Placing his hand gently to her neck he confirmed what he already knew and grimly shook his head.

"Broken neck, I'm afraid," he said.

Ducky felt for Kirby's carotid pulse. Leaning further into the car, he noted the serious wound to Kirby's thigh and the large pool of blood on his legs and the car seat.

"Looks like his broken femur severed the femoral artery. He bled out."

"Must have lost control on the bend," the Sheriff concluded. "If you don't mind Agent Gibbs, my men are stretched thin trying to get to all of the emergency calls we've received. This storm's caused major damage to properties all over this county. As you already know Deputy Lewis, I'll leave him here to help organise anything you need but I'm afraid the rest of us need to keep moving."

Gibbs nodded as the Sheriff made his way back up to his car.

Ziva completed her second trip down the embankment with their cameras and gear and they began to process the scene in the pouring rain and howling winds. Gibbs located the likely murder weapon, tucked into the small of Kirby's back. There were four bullets missing from the clip.

The ambulance and tow trucks had arrived. With the assistance of the Deputy, they arranged to have the bodies sent to the local morgue tonight and transported to NCIS after the storm. Ducky sealed the bodies in their body bags to prevent compromising any evidence. After processing the rest of the scene, the vehicle was released to the tow truck driver who would also wait for the storm to pass before transporting it to NCIS for further examination.

They were cold and thoroughly wet as they struggled back to the SUV. Wondering why the others hadn't joined them, Gibbs was just about to reach for his cell when it sounded. "Gibbs," he answered abruptly.

McGee's voice sounded tense. "We've got trouble, Boss."

**--0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0--**


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

**Chapter 4**

"What kind of trouble?" Gibbs asked him.

"The van's broken down and Tony's really sick," McGee replied. "Boss, we need Ducky back here right away."

"I'm gonna put you on speaker so Ducky can hear," Gibbs said pressing the speaker button. "How bad is DiNozzo?"

McGee handed the phone so Palmer could answer.

"Vomiting, headaches, severe abdominal pain and a fever of 102," Jimmy reported. "Doctor Mallard, Tony thinks he has food poisoning but…I think this may be appendicitis."

"Yes, yes. You could be right, my boy," Ducky replied. "Have you performed an abdominal examination yet?"

"Not yet Doctor," Palmer replied. "He's in the bathroom…er… throwing up again. When he's finished I'll examine him, then I'll call you back."

"Very well Mr Palmer," Ducky replied.

The call ended and Gibbs, Ziva and Ducky exchanged worried glances.

"Dammit DiNozzo!" Gibbs cursed.

"Now, Jethro, I'm sure the poor boy wasn't planning this," Ducky reasoned. "We are going to need some medical supplies. Do you think young Deputy Lewis can assist us?"

"He is helping the tow truck driver," Ziva said getting out of the SUV. "I will get him."

She cautiously negotiated the embankment and told the Deputy of Tony's situation.

"I knew he was sick, Duck," Gibbs said angrily. "I should have brought him with us. I thought he'd be better off out of the storm where he'd be warm and dry."

"Given Anthony's previous respiratory complications, I'd say that was a wise choice," Ducky told him. "This is not your fault, Jethro, I'd have made the same decision."

Ziva arrived back with the Deputy just as Gibbs' phone rang again. He recognised the caller ID and immediately placed the call on speaker.

"How is he?" he asked.

Palmer answered tentatively. "I've just completed the abdominal examination. Tony is suffering from severe pain in the lower right quadrant of the abdomen and acute rebound tenderness," Palmer advised. "His temperature is holding at 102, his skin is hot and clammy and he is still nauseas…Doctor?"

All eyes went to Ducky as he responded to his young assistant.

"I concur with your earlier diagnosis, Mr Palmer. I believe Anthony has an acute case of appendicitis. Jethro and I will return at once."

Ducky had already begun writing a list of necessary supplies as he instructed Jimmy calmly.

"Mr Palmer, you must keep Anthony lying down. Monitor his vitals every 15 minutes. Try to bring his fever down with ice packs and cool cloths. You can moisten his lips when he's thirsty but nothing else to eat or drink since he will more than likely require surgery once we get him to a hospital."

"Understood, Doctor," Palmer acknowledged.

"McGee!" Gibbs barked.

"I'm here, Boss."

"Ducky and I will be there in 45 minutes. Keep me apprised of his condition." He snapped the cell shut and turned to see Ducky give the Deputy the list of equipment and medical supplies.

"Deputy Lewis, can you get these supplies?" Ducky asked.

"The nearest hospital is an hour from here and close to two hours from Agent DiNozzo," Deputy Lewis advised. "We have an emergency clinic and pharmacy in town that should stock most of this stuff. I'll call ahead so they have the supplies ready when we get there. That will put me about one hour behind you."

Gibbs nodded.

"Ziva, go with him," he instructed.

Ziva hesitated briefly, torn between her need to see Tony and the knowledge that without medical supplies, he would die. She nodded an acknowledgement to Gibbs and accompanied the Deputy to Fredricktown while Gibbs and Ducky headed back to the Kirby property and Tony.

**--0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0--**

"How bad can this get, Duck?" Gibbs asked, driving as fast as he dared in the appalling conditions.

"Well, Jethro, appendicitis it quite a common affliction and a relatively minor surgery in the preferred medical environment."

"What about when stuck in the middle of nowhere without a doctor or medical supplies?"

Ducky paused before answering. "Then it becomes a matter of life or death, I'm afraid. Should the appendix rupture, it can cause infection and peritonitis. If left untreated it can cause organ failure and eventually, death."

Gibbs just nodded. They drove on in silence for a while before Gibbs spoke again.

"You think Palmer can handle this until we get there, Duck?"

"Jethro!" Ducky said defensively. "Jimmy Palmer is quite possibly the best young assistant I have ever had. He is eager to learn, has a keen mind and enormous potential. However, you must keep in mind that he is also a young man, still in medical school who is faced with a critical patient and no medical supplies or equipment!" His voice softened as he added. "Whatever happens, Jethro, you can be sure that young Mr Palmer will do everything he can to help Anthony."

"I know, Duck," Gibbs said. "I just needed to hear it from you."

**--0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0--**

McGee had been trying to prepare the house for the onslaught of the hurricane. He shored up window shutters and checked for candles, lanterns, matches and flashlights in case of a power outage. As he walked into the living room from the back of the house he saw Tony was laying full length on the couch, his skin slicked with sweat and his eyes closed. Palmer was wringing a face cloth over a basin of cool water. He placed it on Tony's forehead.

"How is he?" McGee asked quietly, knowing that the senior agent would never allow the ministrations unless he was too ill to argue.

"He's sleeping," Jimmy whispered. "He's feverish and exhausted."

Rising to his feet he collected the basin of water and headed for the kitchen. With the kettle just boiled he poured the water into the coffee cups and handed one to McGee.

The storm had increased its intensity and the sky lit up as lightning struck followed almost immediately by the roar of thunder.

"How long until they get here?" Jimmy asked.

McGee checked his watch.

"Gibbs said 45 minutes…that was 15 minutes ago," he eyed Palmer with concern. "You okay Jimmy?"

"I'm just worried about Tony," he shrugged. "I wish Doctor Mallard was here. He'd know what to do. He's amazing – no matter what the situation, Doctor Mallard _always_ knows what to do."

McGee looked around at Tony's sleeping form. "Looks to me like you've done everything Ducky asked of you."

"Maybe, but what if something happens?" Jimmy said with a hint of panic. "What if Tony gets worse before they get here? What if I can't help him? I'm not even a doctor yet – I'm not Doctor Mallard! "

McGee took a sip from his coffee. "I know how you feel," he said. "When I first made field agent, I had very little field or investigative experience. My specialty was Computer Forensics! Then suddenly I was part of a team – not just any team but Gibbs' Major Case Response team and I really didn't think I belonged."

"What did you do?"

"I thought about it…why would Gibbs have selected me if he didn't think I was the right person for the job? If he didn't think I could handle myself? After all, Gibbs is regarded as NCIS' best agent, right? And Gibbs doesn't make mistakes."

Palmer nodded in agreement and McGee continued.

"Do you think Ducky is a good ME?"

"Oh yes!" Palmer replied emphatically. "Doctor Mallard has no peer in forensic pathology. He is renowned as the best in his field and I am so privileged to work so closely and to learn from him!"

Placing a hand on Jimmy's shoulder, McGee replied.

"Ducky doesn't make mistakes either and he chose you!"

Jimmy was still smiling at McGee's encouraging words when they heard Tony's soft moans. He was in a restless sleep and in obvious pain. Jimmy gathered more ice from the freezer, refilled the basin with tepid water and returned to Tony's side.

Another flash of lightning lit up the darkened sky causing the lights to flicker.

"I found a few cords of wood in the lean-to out the back. I'll get a fire going," McGee said.

**--0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0--**

Despite the fact that it was barely 1600, the storm-darkened clouds had blocked the sun giving the appearance that it was much later in the evening. The howling winds forced the rain to hit the windscreen horizontally, making it almost impossible to see further than 20 feet in front of the car. Gibbs and Ducky travelled silently. Gibbs concentrating on the road and whatever hazards Mother Nature threw in their path. Ducky was holding on for dear life. He was tempted to recount a few stories of his past travels in Asia during the Monsoon season, but he decided his friend did not need the distraction. He would tuck those stories away for another day.

As they rounded the corner to the old wooden bridge, the flash of a lightning strike, too close for comfort, momentarily blinded them both. When his vision cleared, Gibbs felt his heart freeze as he noticed the fifty-foot chasm where the bridge once stood. He turned the steering wheel violently and fought for control of the vehicle.

"Hold on, Ducky!" Gibbs yelled, as the SUV aquaplaned towards the edge of the cliff with the flood-engorged river raging thirty feet below.

**--0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0--**

McGee and Palmer watched helplessly as Tony became more and more restless. Flushed with fever, he repeatedly pushed away the blanket they had placed over him only to be cold and shivering moments later. His stomach heaved even though he had long since disgorged its contents and the excruciating pain of retching made him listless and weak.

"How much longer?" He whispered without opening his eyes.

McGee checked his watch. "About twenty minutes, Tony. Ducky and Gibbs will be here to help you."

"This reminds…. me of a…. movie," Tony gasped weakly.

Palmer and McGee exchanged a half smile.

"Of course it does," McGee replied. "Which one?"

"Houdini…1953…starred Tony Curtis and… Janet Leigh...George Marshall directed," Tony whispered.

"Hey! You love Tony Curtis!" McGee said brightly. "I never saw it, though. Why does this remind you of Houdini, Tony?"

"Tony Curtis char...character…The Great Houdini… had appendicitis."

"Most movies of that era had the famous Hollywood happy endings," Palmer said. "So, how did this one end? Did he live happily ever after?"

"No…he died." Tony's voice was barely audible. Tension weighed heavily in the air as the three men silently and reluctantly acknowledged that, unless help arrived soon, Tony's life could end the same way.

Trying to lift the spirits of his ailing partner, McGee stated.

"Tony, in the years that I've known you, I've seen you pull off some amazing, death-defying escapes but I wouldn't say you were the Great Houdini type. I've always thought of you as more of a Great Gonzo type and as far as I know, Gonzo is alive and well and living happily with Kermit and the rest of the Muppets."

Tony chuckled weakly and winced as the pain of his cramping abdomen struck again. Moments later, he gave in to his exhaustion and drifted off to a fitful sleep.

**--0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0--**

Gibbs had a thousand thoughts, all jockeying for attention at the same time. In the poor light, he had only noticed the bridge missing at the last moment. Braking sharply and wrenching the steering wheel to the right, he felt the SUV start to aquaplane and knew he had lost control of the vehicle. There was nothing left to do but ease up on the gas; warn Ducky to hang on and brace himself as the car careened sideways towards the newly formed chasm in the road and the angry river below. His most dominant thought was of Tony and how his efforts to help the younger man had failed and had most probably cost Tony's life, his life and the life of his dear friend Ducky.

Gibbs could not resist applying the brake, despite knowing that it would make no difference to the situation. The world around him seemed to move frame by frame as his mind processed the danger of the situation. Then suddenly, it was over. The SUV slid to a stop with the driver's side of the vehicle dangerously close to the edge of the precipice. Both men sat completely still, not even daring to exhale lest it tip the delicate balance.

Ducky's eyes were screwed shut and he had a white knuckled grip on the dashboard.

Gibbs placed a reassuring hand on the older man's arm.

"It's okay, Duck," he said. "We're okay."

Ducky opened one eye first then, as if not trusting what he saw, he slowly opened the other.

"Oh my!" He managed. "That was a little too close for comfort."

"You think, Duck?"

Ducky looked to the river rushing below them.

"Looks like luck was on our side, Jethro!"

"Luck may be on our side, Duck," Gibbs said gravely, "but DiNozzo is on the other side and there's no other road in."

**--0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0—**


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

**A/N:-** This chapter and subsequent chapters, contain medical jargon and procedures. I have no medical knowledge or experience (other than that gained as a patient). I have tried to be as accurate as possible and hope that any inaccuracies can be overlooked in favour of the story line.

**Chapter 5**

Gibbs opened his cell and dialled Abby's number.

"Hey, Bossman!" she answered. "I've been monitoring the storm and you're right in the thick of it. Is everyone okay?"

Gibbs felt a pang of guilt as he realised that no one had told Abby that Tony was sick.

"Abby, I need you to arrange a medivac from the Kirby's property."

"A medivac?" Abby repeated. "Gibbs, what happened? Who's hurt? Please tell me it wasn't the lightning!"

"Tony's sick, Abs. Ducky thinks he has acute appendicitis, we need to get him to a hospital right away," he explained.

"Appendicitis! Oh my God, Oh my God,…. Poor Tony! Thank heavens Ducky is with him."

"That's the problem, Abs," Gibbs told her. "Ducky's here with me and we've been cut off from Tony by the storm."

Abby gasped. "Tony's alone? Oh my God, Oh my God,……."

"He's _not_ alone, McGee and Palmer are with him. But we need to get him out of there fast."

"Gibbs, the FAA has grounded all aircraft and closed all airports in your area. I'll call Bethesda about a medivac but they may have to wait until the storm passes."

"_He needs help now_, Abby!" Gibbs bellowed down the phone. "Do what you can and let me know. Ask the Director for help if you need it."

Ending the call, he immediately dialled Ziva's number. She answered quickly.

"Officer David."

"Where are you?" he asked brusquely.

"We are almost at the emergency clinic," she replied. "We will pick up the supplies and meet you at Kirby's house in one hour."

"Not unless you have wings," Gibbs snarled.

"What do you mean?" Ziva frowned.

"Flood waters caused the bridge to collapse. Is Lewis certain there's no other way in?" Gibbs asked.

Ziva quickly explained the situation to the Deputy and placed the phone on speaker.

The Deputy replied. "There's no other access road, Agent Gibbs. What about a medivac?"

"We're trying to arrange that now but the storm has grounded all aircraft," Gibbs said. "We may have to cross the river and go in on foot."

"The force of the currents in the river would be enormous, Sir," The Deputy warned. "I wouldn't recommend you cross……

"_I didn't say we were gonna swim across_," Gibbs snapped. "David, you and I will go in on foot. Bring ropes, a grappling hook, anything else you think we may need and get here fast." He hung up.

Gibbs slammed his fist into the dashboard of the SUV. _**"Damn it!!"**_ he yelled, venting his considerable frustration and almost frightening the life out of Ducky.

"Really, Jethro," Ducky placated "You must try to calm down. Breaking your hand is not going to make things happen any faster."

"Calm down, Ducky?" Gibbs snapped. "_How the hell do you suggest I do that?_ You said yourself that DiNozzo could die unless he gets medical assistance straight away!"

"Yes I did say that," Ducky replied, "and you have instructed your people to arrange medical supplies and an emergency medivac. All you can do now is to trust them to do their jobs. Everyone is doing everything possible to help Anthony."

"That's not all I can do, Duck," Gibbs said, before opening the car door and getting out into the storm.

"Jethro!! What in heavens name are you doing?" Ducky yelled.

"I can't just sit on my ass and wait, Duck," Gibbs replied. "I'm going down to the river to find the best place to cross. If I'm not back when Ziva gets here, blast the horn."

Ducky watched Gibbs disappear down the steep cliff face to the river below. He knew Gibbs well enough to know that he would not be calmed until he had reached Tony and delivered him to safety.

"Do be careful, Jethro," Ducky said to Gibbs' retreating back.

**--0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0--**

Ziva and Deputy Lewis had made good time to the clinic. Having radioed ahead, the on call nurse had already boxed up their supplies as per Ducky's list. They quickly collected the large box and placed it in the car. Deputy Lewis then drove to the general store where Ziva purchased the equipment needed for the long wet walk ahead. Climbing back into the car, they sped off in the direction of the bridge to meet Gibbs and Ducky.

**--0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0--**

Director Jenny Sheppard strode confidently into the Forensics lab. Although Abby was facing away from her, Jenny knew that something was wrong by the absence of mind-numbing music and way the younger woman was anxiously jigging on the spot while guzzling a Caf-Pow.

"Abby?" she said. "Cynthia said you needed to see me straight away?"

Jenny had barely finished her sentence before Abby threw herself at her and hugged her tightly.

"Oh, Director, it's terrible!" Abby sobbed. "I was teasing him about being chained naked to a traffic light and all that time nobody knew - not even Gibbs - and Gibbs knows everything, except he didn't know about this cause if he did he would never let him out of his sight. But he did and now he's really, really sick!"

Jenny extracted herself from Abby's embrace and tried to make sense of what she had just heard.

"Who was tied naked to a traffic light?" she asked.

"Tony!"

Jenny allowed the woman in her to dwell on that image for a moment before the Director in her took charge once again.

"Abby!" Jenny was about as confused as she could be. "What didn't Gibbs know and who is sick?"

"Tony's sick," Abby said sadly. "Ducky thinks it's appendicitis and it's really, really bad. Only, Ducky's not with Tony. McGee and Palmer are with Tony. Ducky is with Gibbs and they got cut off from Tony by the storm."

"O-kay," Jenny said slowly piecing the story together. "Then what happened?"

"Then Gibbs asked me to arrange a medivac. I phoned the Air Flight Rescue and they won't fly in the storm. So I called Bethesda but their helicopter transported a liver to Philadelphia this afternoon, for a transplant. It's not available."

Jenny placed her hand on Abby's shoulder to console her. "Abby, it's okay. We'll find someone else to help."

"Who?" I can't tell Gibbs that no one is coming? He didn't say it, but he's really, really worried. He yelled at me and Gibbs never yells at me, never ever!" Abby sobbed, the tears spilling from her eyes. "The FAA won't allow any civilian aircraft to fly until after the storm."

"Yes, but they don't control the Military," Jenny said. "Can I use this phone?"

"Please," Abby pleaded.

"Cynthia, get me Colonel Ken Warren at Quantico. It's an emergency. Have the call transferred to this extension," Jenny instructed.

Jenny smiled reassuringly at Abby who continued her anxious jiggling as they waited for the return phone call. It was just a few moments before the shrill of the phone broke the silence of the lab.

"Jenny Sheppard," the Director answered.

"Jenny, its Ken, what can I do for NCIS?" the voice boomed over the speaker.

"Ken, I have a situation. One of my teams has been stranded by the hurricane near Fredricktown Virginia. I have an Agent in immediate need of a medivac. The FAA has grounded all civilian aircraft until late tomorrow. Can you help?"

"I'd like to Jenny but that's one hell of a storm and Fredricktown is right in the middle of it!" The Colonel replied. "A Black Hawk would act like a lightning rod out there. I can't risk the lives of my men, your team or a six million dollar aircraft."

Jenny sighed; she knew he was right. It would be inexcusable to risk so many lives for one agent. But Tony was one of _her_ agents and she wouldn't give up yet.

"I know you're right Ken," she acknowledged. "In fact, I said the same thing to Special Agent Gibbs when he led five NCIS agents on that suicide mission in Kerbala to rescue that young marine. By the way, how is your son?"

The Colonel laughed loudly. "He's just fine, Jenny, just fine. But, I get the message. You people at NCIS went right out on a limb for us that day. I guess it's time we repaid the favour," he said.

"I can't put a bird in the air while this electrical storm is raging, but I'll have our radar specialist's check on the eye of the hurricane. The diameter of the eye and the time it's expected to reach the location of your people, will determine how soon we can safely send a team in to get them. Hold the line, Jenny while I speak with my people," the Colonel asked.

After a few anxious moments, the Colonel returned to the phone.

"Jenny, we may be in luck. This hurricane is a Category 3 and has an eye 32 miles wide. This should give us a 90-minute window to get a team in, pick up your people and bring them home. I'll have a team on stand-by. You're people will have to be ready to go when they get the word. By the look of the weather radar, that may be five or six hours away."

"They'll be ready," Jenny said with a wink at Abby.

"How many are we talking about?" the Colonel asked.

"Maximum, five able bodied, one incapacitated and one deceased," Jenny answered.

"We'll bring 'em home for you, Jenny. Send me their coordinates; I'll let you know when we have a go."

"Thanks, Ken I appreciate the help," Jenny said before ending the call.

Abby smiled sadly. "Five hours."

"It's a lot better than 24, Abby," Jenny said. "You better send through those coordinates right away."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Jenny started to walk towards the door when she stopped and looked back at Abby. She looked completely miserable, quite a contrast from her usual effervescent self.

"Abby?" Jenny said. "If you'd like, you can transfer your calls to my office. We can order some dinner while we wait for news."

Abby's eyes were bright and her smile genuine. Sometimes it was tough being the one left behind.

"Thank you Director," she said. "I'll put my babies to bed and I'll be right up."

But first she had to deliver the bad news to one Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

**--0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0--**

Gibbs took the news a lot better than Abby thought he would. He was already mentally prepared for the fact that Ziva and he would have to take the medical supplies by foot, at night. Leaving Ducky in the warmth of the SUV, Gibbs had been reconnoitring the riverbank for possible crossing sites.

The problem was that the trip across the river would be far too dangerous for Ducky. So, even when the medical supplies were delivered, they would still be without a fully qualified doctor and it would be up to Palmer to keep Tony alive until they could medivac him three or four hours later.

Abby would monitor their progress using the GPS locators in their cell phones.

Once they crossed the river, the five-mile walk would take at least an hour in these conditions. Crossing the river was still the major obstacle. Once they got there with the supplies, Ducky would need to stay on the phone and talk Palmer through anything he couldn't handle. Now that the plans were set, Gibbs just wanted to get started.

Gibbs returned to the SUV. He ran a hand through his hair and pushed the dripping ends off his forehead. He hated having to wait for Ziva to arrive when he knew that every second wasted could mean…he pushed that thought from his mind and concentrated on getting help to Tony fast.

Beside him, Ducky was showing considerable restraint and was sitting in uncharacteristic silence and that only helped to underline just how dire was the situation for Tony.

**--0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0--**

McGee looked nervously from his watch to the road outside. _'They should be here by now.'_ He thought. _'Where are they?'_

Tony had slept for only ten minutes before the cramping in his abdomen intensified. His breathing had become laboured as he tried to endure the pain. He gripped the edge of the sofa tightly, sweating profusely and clenching his jaw to avoid moaning aloud. He looked at McGee without recognition, the pain and fever burning brightly in his eyes.

"Is he here?" he mumbled.

"Not yet, Tony," McGee said, "but he's coming, he's on his way."

Tony shook his head. "He's not coming."

His words were slow and slurred. "Always says…. he's coming but….. he never does. Not when I…. made the play offs, not when…. I graduated, not even…. when I had…. the plague. He never comes," his words faded and his eyes remained open but clouded over again.

"Tony? Tony?" McGee shook him gently but received no response.

Palmer went to his side, checking his vitals.

"He's altered," he said, "We have to get his temperature down."

They stripped him to his boxers and re-filled a basin with tepid water. Using cooling cloths they sponged his limbs, chest and abdomen. They placed an icepack at the back of his neck. Palmer removed the thermometer from Tony's mouth and looked at it with concern.

"Who was he talking about? Who never comes?" Palmer asked.

"His father," McGee stated sadly.

As the younger men continued to make Tony as comfortable as possible, both were lost in thought of their own childhoods. They may not have had the money, the big house or the housekeepers but both were secure in the love, nurturing and guidance they received from their parents.

McGee's ringing phone startled them both.

"It's Gibbs," he said placing the call on speaker. "Boss? Where are you? Are you okay?"

"How's DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked gruffly, avoiding the question.

"Not good, Boss, he's getting worse. When will you and Ducky be here?"

"The bridge is out McGee. We can't get to you by road," Gibbs explained.

The words hung in the air. McGee looked to the faces of his companions and couldn't decide whether Tony or Palmer was paler.

"McGee!" Gibbs snapped.

"I'm here, Boss."

"We're trying to arrange a medivac but in the meantime, Ziva and I are gonna get the medical supplies to you on foot," Gibbs said. "It's gonna take a few hours."

McGee and Palmer exchanged worried glances and looked back at Tony's semi-conscious form.

"Let me talk to Tony," Gibbs said.

"Er...Boss...Tony's not real lucid at the moment," McGee explained. "I'm not sure he'll be able to speak to you."

"Don't need him to talk, I need him to listen," Gibbs snapped impatiently. "Put the cell to his ear."

McGee took the cell to Tony and placed it next to his ear. He wasn't even sure that Tony was conscious but when Gibbs began to speak, Tony roused a little. His brow creased in confusion and his green eyes partially opened as he scanned the room searching for Gibbs. McGee heard the concern and a rare gentleness in his Boss' words.

"Tony, we're coming for you. Do you hear me, DiNozzo? You hold on, we're coming!"

Tony's head nodded minutely. His lips moved a little as if trying to speak and then his eyes fluttered closed again.

"Boss, I think he heard you," McGee said hopefully.

"He heard me," the gruff tone was back in Gibbs' voice. "Now he damn well better do what I said."

"Excuse me, Jethro, if I may?" Ducky said while taking the cell from Gibbs. "Mr Palmer, what are Anthony's vitals?"

"Pulse is 94, respirations 30 and shallow. His temperature is 103.2. His abdomen is rigid and painful and he is somewhat altered," Palmer paused. "Doctor Mallard. I don't think Tony can wait a few hours."

"I'm afraid you may be right, Mr Palmer. Anthony's condition is deteriorating," Ducky said. "It will be at least two hours before Jethro can get to you. That may be too late. You may have to operate before he arrives."

"M, me?? No, no, no, no, Doctor, I can't operate!!" Jimmy stuttered.

"Well, Mr Palmer, it's either you or Special Agent McGee. Considering you're the medical student, I think you would be the most appropriate choice. Don't you?" Ducky kept his voice light and calm, knowing the overwhelming anxiety that his young assistant would be feeling.

Jimmy Palmer didn't reply; he had no words. He felt his apprehension building to a level of hysteria.

Ducky's calm cultured voice sounded again.

"Jimmy, I need you to remain calm. Anthony needs you. I will stay on the phone and talk you through each step. You can do this, my boy, I _know_ you can."

"Doctor? What if I do something wrong? If I operate, Tony might die!!" he said.

"That is true, Mr Palmer," Ducky said gently. "However, if you _**do not**_ operate, Anthony will almost certainly die!!"

**--0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0—**


	6. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

**A/N: -** This chapter and subsequent chapters contain medical jargon and procedures. I have no medical knowledge or experience (other than that gained as a patient). I have tried to be as accurate as possible and hope that any inaccuracies can be overlooked in favour of the story line.

**Chapter 6**

"Mr Palmer you must focus," Ducky said. "If Anthony's appendix have not already ruptured, it's highly likely that it will before Jethro gets to you with the medication and equipment. Therefore, we need to prepare for surgery. Do you understand?"

Something in Jimmy's brain clicked, pushing the fear aside and focussing on the more urgent issues. With McGee standing alongside for support and assistance, he set his mind on the practical matters.

"Doctor, we don't have any equipment," he said.

"You and Timothy need to check the house, Mr Palmer," Ducky instructed. "Gather anything you think you may be able to sterilise and use."

"We have a comprehensive first aid kit in the van," Palmer offered.

"Of course, but what about anaesthesia?" Ducky asked. "We can't even consider operating without it."

They were suddenly back at square one. They wouldn't dare attempt such a procedure without anaesthesia but Tony would die if they didn't operate.

"Wait! What about chloroform?" McGee asked. "We found a bottle that Kirby used on his wife. It's sealed in an evidence bag but given the circumstances……."

"Good thinking, Timothy. Chloroform will do the trick," Ducky said. "It's not the preferred anaesthesia, given Anthony's previous respiratory problems but it will render him deeply unconscious and keep him pain free and immobile during surgery."

Ducky instructed the younger men to look for a surface suitable to use as an operating table. They had sterilised sheets and plastic in the van. They placed a large pot of water on the stove to boil and sterilise any makeshift instruments they needed and went in search of anything that may assist them.

**--0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0--**

Deputy Lewis and Ziva arrived at the site of the bridge collapse, just forty-five minutes after they had spoken to Gibbs on the phone. Night had fallen and the temperature had dropped dramatically.

Ducky quickly set about checking the medical supplies. He mentally ticked off each item as he packed them carefully into two duffle bags. Morphine, saline solution, a broad-spectrum antibiotic, gauze dressings, Betadine, IV tubing and a variety of scalpels, clamps, syringes, a stethoscope and a suture kit.

At the same time, Gibbs checked the climbing equipment. Ropes, water bottles, grappling hook, large flashlights, head torches, pulley and several small dry packs to prevent the medications, dressings, weapons and cell phones from moisture from the river or the driving rain.

"Good job," he said, quickly putting the items into a backpack.

Ziva walked towards him with her arms laden with clothes and boots.

"Here," she said to Gibbs. "Dry clothing, boots, socks and weather proof jacket. You need to change."

Gibbs shrugged her off. "No, we need to go!"

Ziva unflinchingly met Gibbs' steely glare with an intractable look of her own.

"Your clothes and boots are already wet and heavy. They will slow you down." Ziva wasn't about to back down on this issue. "We need to give ourselves the best possible chance of reaching Tony. You change first and then we will go."

For a moment, it appeared that they had reached an impasse before Gibbs grudgingly conceded her point with a curt nod of his head. Taking the items of clothing from her, he walked towards the SUV to change. He looked at the clothing and boots, noting the sizes. He frowned.

"You know my sizes?? Even my boots??"

She smiled smugly. "What can I say? I am a spy!"

Moments later Gibbs emerged wearing the newly purchased clothes. He gave last minute instructions for Ducky to keep him informed of Tony's condition, and then they grabbed their gear and headed down the steep hillside to the river below.

The Deputy had been called back to the Sheriff's office but had offered to take Ducky back to his nearby home. There, the elderly ME would be warm and sheltered while he stayed in constant communication with the other team members. They had transferred the NCIS equipment and any evidence gathered to the Deputy's car and left the SUV blocking the roadway with its hazard lights flashing, warning anyone who happened by that the bridge was out. Ducky accepted the kind offer and left with the Deputy.

They drove away to dulcet tones of Ducky recalling another memory.

"You know, Deputy Lewis," he said, "this reminds me of a time when I was in the Amazon rainforest with the Marubo tribe. They believed there were medicinal powers in the faeces of the Howler Monkey…………….."

**--0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0--**

On Gibbs' earlier scouting trip to the riverbank, he had found a bend in the swollen river that narrowed slightly and had trees lining both sides of the banks. Gibbs decided that this was a good location to cast the grappling hook and fasten the rope to the trees on either side. They would then have to cross the rapidly flowing river, hand over hand until they reached the other side.

From one side of the river to the other was at least thirty yards and during the climb, they would be suspended from the rope 10 to 15 feet above the river. The climb would not be easy but to slip and fall into the raging waters below would more than likely result in serious injury or death.

Ziva directed the beams from the large waterproof flashlights on the large tree across the river. The ex-Gunny snagged the large limb of the tree with the grappling hook on his second attempt. Testing it against his weight several times, he climbed halfway up the tree behind him and fastened the rope. Ziva volunteered to cross first. Gibbs gave her a quick boost and she grabbed the rope with both hands.

He kept her in the beam of his flashlight as she traversed the first fifteen yards. Although she was very strong, the driving rain stung her face and howling winds buffeted her body and made climbing particularly difficult. She hung by her arms for a few moments, trying to regain her breath. Gibbs watched her carefully, seeing signs of her fatigue.

"Ziva!!" he tried to make himself be heard over the wind. "Ziva!! Swing your feet over the rope. It'll take some strain off your arms."

He watched her manage to swing her legs over the rope on her third try; then he watched in relief as she slowly edged her way to the other side of the river. Gibbs attached the first bag of medical supplies to the pulley and using a guide rope they'd set up, Ziva pulled the first bag across to her side of the river. Gibbs guided the pulley back and hooked up the second bag, filled with medications and pain relief for Tony. With Ziva pulling gently, the second bag reached the halfway point and stopped. It was stuck. No amount of gentle persuasion or cursing in Hebrew managed to free it.

Zipping up his weatherproof jacket and pulling on his gloves, Gibbs jumped up to grasp the rope and started to swing his way, hand over hand, to where the obstinate bag hung precariously, midway across the river. He was only ten feet away from it when he noticed Ziva about to heave vigorously on the rope.

"Wait, Ziva, no!!" he yelled. His voice was swept away with the wind and she did not hear him. She pulled the guide rope with all of her strength and the pulley separated and broke open, releasing the bag into the tumultuous torrents below.

Their eyes widened with panic and the realisation that Tony's greater chance of survival was being swept down the river with the bag of medical supplies. In the narrow beam of their head-torches, their eyes met and held for a moment before Gibbs released his grip on the rope and plunged into the wild waters.

"Gibbs!!" Ziva yelled. She slung the remaining bag over her shoulder and tried to keep pace with him as the river tossed him around like a rag doll. The river was full of debris, dragged in by the force of floodwaters. She watched in horror as the current dragged him underwater and spewed him out several yards further down. The river was sweeping him away faster than she could run.

So intent on keeping the beam of her flashlight on him, she did not see the broken tree branch lying in her path and she tripped and fell heavily, hearing a crack from her left forearm. Without thought for herself, she regained her feet as quickly as possible. Calling his name over and over, she ran down the riverbank as quickly as she could. She disregarded the throbbing pain that emanated from her arm and scanned the turbulent waters for any sign of Gibbs. He was gone.

**--0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0--**

Ducky sat sipping tea in the warmth of Deputy Lewis' home, but he was far from relaxed. He desperately wished he were with his young assistant and Timothy McGee as they prepared to operate on Tony. He thought of the courage being shown by these two young men, both timid and unassuming in their own way.

They had understandably baulked in horror at the thought of having to remove Tony's appendix but then rallied, suppressed their fear and anxiety and prepared for the situation at hand. Ducky was very proud of them both.

Tony had been drifting in and out of consciousness. During one of his more lucid moments they had explained the situation and watched Tony's eyes almost bulge out of his head at the thought of them slicing into him. Panic and confusion overwhelmed him and he began hyperventilating and calling for Gibbs and Ducky to help him. Palmer and McGee held him down and placed the cell phone to his ear, watching as Ducky's soothing words and Tony's fever induced exhaustion combined and he lost consciousness again.

The first aid kit in the Coroner's van contained Betadine, a suture kit, gauze pads, dressings, butterfly clips and latex gloves. All would prove useful. The kitchen knives were either not sharp enough or too big to act as a scalpel but McGee remembered the pocket-knife Gibbs had given Tony as a gift. He wasn't sure that Tony would be happy about being incised with his own knife but it was razor sharp and their best option by far. He knew that Tony carried it with him at all times and found it in the back pocket of Tony's discarded jeans. He placed it into the pot to be sterilized with some other items.

They covered the large dining room table with a sterilized sheet from the van and stoked the fire to keep Tony warm during the surgery then assisted him from the couch to the table.

Ducky had already instructed McGee regarding the application of the chloroform. As they were unable to assist Tony's breathing, McGee would need to watch him very carefully for signs of respiratory failure or distress and other side effects like vomiting. Once Tony was unconscious McGee would place the chloroform soaked pad over Tony's nose and mouth for 5 seconds every five minutes to ensure he didn't wake up during the procedure.

They were almost ready to start when they realized that Tony was awake and blinking up at them.

"Hey, Tony," McGee said gently. "How are you feeling?"

"M'm …thirsty," Tony whispered weakly.

Ducky's voice sounded through the speakerphone. "I'm afraid we can't give you anything to drink, Anthony but we can moisten your lips."

Palmer placed a cotton ball in a cup of water and wet Tony's lips. As he turned away, Tony grasped him by the arm.

"Can you… do this, Jimmy?" he asked.

Palmer looked directly into Tony's eyes and responded with a confidence he didn't feel. "I can do this, Tony."

"You've done it before?"

"Yes, twice and I've never had a complaint," Jimmy answered.

It wasn't really a lie. After all he had removed the appendix of two cadavers at med school and he had definitely received no complaint from them.

Tony closed his eyes and winced as another wave of pain washed over him.

"You know," he gasped. "If this was… a John Wayne western… and I was having surgery, …you'd give me… a bottle of whisky and… wait until I passed out."

"Sorry Tony," McGee said holding the chloroform soaked pad in his gloved hands. "No whisky and no time. Besides, we're still on the clock and Gibbs would kick your ass for drinking on the job. You ready?"

Tony fought to suppress his fear as he looked at Palmer and gave him a quick nod. Jimmy returned the nod and Tony replied a little shakily. "I'm ready."

As McGee moved to place the chloroformed pad over Tony's face he reached up suddenly, grabbing him firmly by the wrist.

"Wait!"

Seeing the panic in his friend's eyes, McGee said softly. "We've gotcha, Tony."

He placed the chloroformed pad over Tony's nose and mouth.

"Ducky?" McGee said.

"Okay, Anthony, here we go. I want you to take slow, deep breaths and allow yourself to drift off to sleep," Ducky soothed calmly through the speakerphone of the cell. "There's the lad. Everything's going to be just fine."

McGee watched as Tony's eyes fluttered closed and he held the chloroform in place for 15 seconds. Palmer gently lifted Tony's eyelids, noting his eyes had partially rolled back in their sockets. He gently shook Tony's shoulder.

"Tony, can you hear me?"

There was no response.

"He's out. Doctor," Palmer told Ducky. "Respirations are good."

"Splendid," Ducky said. "Give him a hard sternum rub before you make your incision. Let's make sure the poor boy is deeply unconscious before we proceed."

Palmer firmly rubbed Tony's sternum only to have him moan and move slightly. Ducky heard Tony's reaction and instructed.

"Another 10 seconds of chloroform, Timothy and then rub that sternum again."

The second sternum rub evoked no response from Tony indicating he was now deeply unconscious.

Palmer liberally applied the Betadine to Tony's lower abdomen and lifted the pocket-knife to start the incision. He paused as he saw his hand trembling. He looked nervously at McGee who repeated from their earlier conversation.

"Jimmy, Ducky chose you."

Palmer made his incision.

**--0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0—**


	7. Chapter 7

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended**

**A/N: -** This chapter and subsequent chapters contain medical jargon and procedures. I have no medical knowledge or experience (other than that gained as a patient). I have tried to be as accurate as possible and hope that any inaccuracies can be overlooked in favour of the story line.

**Chapter 7**

Ziva was frantic with worry. Dropping the heavy bag of medical supplies at her feet, she continued to run up and down the riverbank calling Gibbs' name as loudly as she could. The heavy rain continued to assault her and reduce her visibility. She scanned the fast flowing river with her flashlight, but could see no sign of him or the other duffel bag.

She heaved the bag back over her shoulder with her good arm and ran 500 yards further down the river. The weight of the bag tested her balance as she ran fast as her mud-laden boots would carry her. Desperately calling Gibbs name, again and again, she would pause briefly trying to hear if he was calling back. The howling wind and rushing river made it impossible for her to hear anything other than the pounding of her own heart. '_This cannot be happening_.' She thought. _'I will not lose Tony __**and **__Gibbs!'_

Her eyes widened with hope as she remembered that she and Gibbs had both placed their cell phones in a dry pack to protect them from the moisture. She had seen Gibbs place his cell in the pocket of his jacket. Perhaps Abby could track the GPS chip. She knew it was a long shot but if there was half a chance of finding Gibbs, she needed to take it.

Ripping her own cell from the dry pack and wincing as pain flared up her forearm, she called Abby.

"Ziva?" came the worried voice of the Forensic Scientist.

"Abby! I need your help," Ziva yelled over the deafening sounds of the storm.

"Ziva, I can barely hear you. What's happening? Are you okay?" Abby asked.

"Abby, have you started to track our location by GPS?"

"No!" Abby replied. "Gibbs said he'd call me when you reached the other side of the river. Is that why you're calling? Have you made it across?"

"I made it across, Abby. Gibbs did not." She knew Abby would be devastated by this news but she did not have time to break it to her gently. "He was swept down the river and I can not find him. You need to track his cell NOW!"

"Oh my God, not Gibbs," Ziva heard Abby muttering over and over as she quickly programmed her laptop to locate their GPS signals.

Ziva was unaware that Abby was in the Director's office so she was a little surprised when Jenny's voice sounded.

"Ziva, when did this happen?" she asked.

"Only moments ago, Director, but the current is running very fast and the river is full of broken branches and debris."

"Ziva, I've got him!!" Abby squealed. "He's approx 400 yards south of your position. He's not moving. Hurry, Ziva."

Ziva heaved the bag of medical supplies over her shoulder again. She fleetingly thought of leaving it behind but knew that Gibbs would head slap her into the middle of next week if they lost both bags. Awkwardly holding the cell to her ear, she ran 400 yards further down the river in search of Gibbs.

"Ziva, you should be able to see him now," Abby said anxiously.

She squinted through the blinding rain but still could not see him.

"Abby, I can not find him, are you sure he is here?"

"I have your signals within 30 feet of each other, Ziva, he _has_ to be there, _he just has to be!_" Abby sobbed.

A large flash of lightning over-head lit up the area and Ziva's breath caught. She saw a reflection in the narrow beam from her flashlight and her heart filled with dread. Walking closer, she picked up the dry pack containing Gibbs' cell phone – there was no sign of Gibbs. Ziva struggled to keep her voice steady as she spoke into her cell.

"Abby, I have found Gibbs' cell phone. The dry pack has washed ashore. I can not find Gibbs."

Abby's already pale complexion became ashen as she realized the deadly implications of that statement. She reached for Jenny's hand as a measure of comfort as they listened to Ziva desperately calling Gibbs' name again and again.

Ziva dropped the duffel bag again and balanced precariously on a small outcrop of rock protruding from the riverbank. Using her flashlight, she scanned the surface of the rapidly flowing water and both sides of the river, looking for any sign that Gibbs may have made it to the safety of the banks.

Leaving the duffel bag behind her, she ran another 200 yards down the river frantically calling his name. Her chest heaved from the physical exertion and she fell to her knees with the realization that Gibbs was gone. In a momentary lapse, the stoic, impassive Mossad officer was replaced by the compassionate, caring woman and Ziva felt the heat of her tears as they rolled down her icy cold cheeks. She wiped at them angrily, regained her feet and spoke into her cell phone again.

"I am sorry," she said to Jenny and Abby. "Gibbs is gone."

**--0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0--**

Ducky's instructions were clear and precise as he guided his young assistant through the first incision in Tony's skin and through the underlying tissue. He instructed Palmer on how to recognize and separate the abdominal muscles before opening the abdominal wall to access the infected appendix.

Tim McGee was trying to concentrate on carefully monitoring Tony's breathing and keeping his partner anaesthetized. Instantly, McGee regretted watching Palmer's first incision and he wondered whether he was standing a little too close to the chloroform as his knees buckled slightly and he felt dizzy.

Though he was not particularly weak stomached and had certainly seen some horrific and bloody crime scenes during his time with NCIS, this was different. This was his partner and Tony's life was quite literally in his hands and the hands of med student Jimmy Palmer.

Taking a few deep breaths, he focused on Tony's breathing, counting the number of times his chest rose in the period of a minute, just as Ducky had taught him. He monitored Tony's temperature and wiped cooling cloths over his face and neck. He was still burning up. McGee took Tony's pulse and prepared to place the chloroform pad over Tony's nose and mouth for another 5-second period. He concentrated on his assigned tasks, leaving the rest to Jimmy. His thoughts were disrupted when Jimmy groaned.

"Ah, Doctor? Looks like inflammation of the peritoneum, there's a lot of pus in here."

That comment alone almost had McGee emptying the contents of his own stomach.

"Oh dear, I feared as much," Ducky lamented. "Anthony's appendix has ruptured. We'll remove the appendix first and deal with the infection immediately after. Mr Palmer, I'm afraid you will have to make the incision two inches longer to accommodate a peritoneal lavage."

With continued patience and clarity, Ducky guided Jimmy through the procedure of clamping the blood vessels that supplied the appendix then cutting, suturing and removing it. He placed the swollen and infected appendix into an evidence jar. The clamping of the blood vessels was a little clumsy as he was working with a pair of sterilized tweezers but Jimmy managed to tie them off adequately.

In the absence of saline solution they had sterilized some water and allowed it to cool. Using a syringe, Jimmy used the water to perform a very primitive and barely adequate peritoneal lavage. He tried to wash out all of the bacteria and infection before it manifested into blood poisoning or sepsis. He was thorough and deliberate as he washed and drained the cavity several times. He mentally cursed that the supplies had not arrived. Tony would desperately need antibiotics and fluid replacement.

"Let's put some butterfly clips and a gauze dressing over the wound for now," Ducky said. "Timothy, you can stop using the chloroform now."

"Ducky?" McGee said. "We're not going to suture the wound closed?"

"No, Timothy, that would be very dangerous indeed," he explained. "The bacteria that caused the infection in Anthony's appendix are highly toxic. When the appendix burst, this bacteria spread through his peritoneal cavity, causing inflammation, acute pain, vomiting and fever. Mr Palmer has cleaned and washed most the bacteria away, but the fluids will build up again and will require further draining. No, we must leave the wound open for now to allow us to keep draining the infected substances out."

McGee allowed himself a small smile. "So, that's it?" he asked. "Tony survived the surgery!"

Palmer still looked very solemn and when he heard Ducky's sigh through the cell, McGee knew he was missing something.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I'm afraid surviving the surgery is the tip of the iceberg, Timothy," Ducky said. "Anthony will be waking up without pain relief; we have no way of monitoring his blood counts or blood pressure. He could go into shock or his kidneys or liver could fail. Anthony's journey is far from over."

They left Tony lying on the table where they'd have easier access to him when they needed to treat him again. They gently washed the skin around his nose and mouth. Chloroform was known to sometimes cause blistering and sores when in direct contact with the skin. Then placing a small pillow under his head, they wrapped Tony in warm blankets to stop him going into shock.

"Gentlemen," Ducky's rich articulated tones resonated through the phone. "I must tell you how very proud I am of you both. That was a very difficult situation and you both acquitted yourselves admirably. However, judging by the cyclonic conditions outside, your job is not yet done and Anthony will be in your charge for a few more hours. Mr Palmer, would you be so kind as to advise me of Anthony's vitals?" Ducky asked.

Had this procedure been performed in a hospital, Tony would be in intensive care and would have various machines to monitor his vitals. The absence of equipment and medications made accurate monitoring of Tony's condition very difficult. Ducky thought it all the more reason to continue to watch him closely and check his vitals every 15 minutes.

"Doctor Mallard," Palmer reported. "His heart rate is 67, respirations 21 and his temperature is 103.7."

"He's doing rather well under the circumstances." Ducky told them. "It's not uncommon for vitals to drop while a person is under anaesthetic."

"Ducky? How long until Tony wakes up?" McGee asked.

Ducky paused before answering. "I would rather the lad stay sleeping until we can get him to a hospital but I'm afraid the intense pain will rouse him within the next thirty minutes or so."

"Can't we use more chloroform?" McGee said. "There's plenty left."

Palmer replied. "Chloroform can depress the respiratory system. Tony's lungs were damaged when he had Y-Pestis. Also, chloroform metabolises in the liver and kidneys and extended use can cause these organs to fail. That's why doctors don't use it as an anaesthesia anymore. We shouldn't really use it again."

"Quite right Mr Palmer," Ducky said, sounding more and more proud of his assistant. "I am rather concerned about his temperature though. Make sure you keep applying the cool compresses. Oh, and go and boil the kettle – I think you both deserve a nice cup of tea."

With Tony still sleeping, Palmer took Ducky's advice and boiled the kettle while McGee retrieved an adaptor from the van and recharged his cell. McGee and Palmer took a few moments to relax on the couch. They were both completely exhausted. Picking up the hot tea Jimmy had prepared for him; McGee held the cup aloft and made a toast.

"To Tony's complete and speedy recovery and…to McGeek and the Autopsy Gremlin!" Palmer laughed as they clinked their cups to seal their toast.

In the back of both of their minds, Ducky's words resonated. "Anthony's journey is far from over."

**--0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0--**

"_I am sorry." _She said to Jenny and Abby._ "Gibbs is gone."_

A deathly silence met Ziva's statement. Abby and Jenny both paled staring disbelievingly at the phone.

"No!" cried Abby. "Oh my God, not Gibbs! Ziva, you have to find him. Quickly Ziva!"

Jenny took a deep and unsteady breath. She straightened her back and cleared her throat in an effort to control her voice.

"Ziva, you must take whatever medical supplies you have to Tony. He won't survive much longer without them. There's nothing you can do for Gibbs now, I will order a Marine search and rescue to come in at first light."

Ziva was torn. She hesitated.

"I can not leave Gibbs, Director! He would never leave one of us in the same situation. He would continue to search until he found us."

"Ziva, you could search all night and not find him." The pain in Jenny's voice was audible. "You _**can**_ help Tony. I am giving you an express order Officer David. _Go now! _I will look after Gibbs._"_

With that, Ziva disconnected the call, gathered the bag of supplies and after a last searching look along the riverbank, she turned and broke into a fast jog toward the house and Tony.

Jenny stood for another minute staring at the phone. Abby placed a hand on the director's arm and gave a reassuring squeeze. "Gibbs is not dead. I won't accept it."

Jenny picked up the phone and dialled her assistant. "Get me Quantico."

**--0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0--**

Tony woke to a world of excruciation. He was caught in the twilight between a conscious and unconscious state. His stomach was ablaze with pain. He felt a cool cloth being pressed onto his forehead and he fought to open his eyes. It took several moments before the world came into focus. McGee and Palmer were standing over him.

"Hey Tony," McGee said gently wiping the cloth over Tony's face and neck. "Everything's fine. Try not to move, okay?"

Tony frowned not comprehending his surroundings. A spasm of pain from his traumatized stomach muscles caused him to cry out. His eyes were wild with pain and fever.

"Why'd … he do it?" Tony gasped weakly.

McGee looked at him in bewilderment. "Do what, Tony?"

"Cut down the tree!"

"What tree?" he asked.

"My tree!….My favourite tree. He had some…men cut it down."

Palmer needed to remove the dressing and butterfly clips to check Tony's wound. Looking at McGee, he whispered.

"Try to keep him talking. This is gonna hurt."

"Tell me about the tree, Tony," McGee replied, "what kind of tree was it?"

"Was a….a pine tree….really tall. Used to cli….climb to the top. Sit there…hours."

"Weren't you scared? How old were you?" McGee asked

Tony hissed in pain and tried to curl into his body as the butterfly clips were removed from his wound. McGee gently but firmly forced him to lay back. Tony closed his eyes tightly and clenched his jaw waiting for the pain to subside. McGee asked the question again.

"Tony? Weren't you scared at the top of the tree? How old were you?"

"Seven," Tony answered, then shaking his head. "Wasn't scared…safe up there …couldn't get me…. up there."

McGee winced as he realized that Tony used the tree as a safe haven. A place he could run to and feel safe from whatever or whoever upset him.

"Who cut your tree down, Tony?" McGee already knew the answer but wanted to keep Tony's attention.

"My…my Father called the…the gardener…told him… to cut it down. Made me watch….said DiNozzo's …don't run and….don't hide from…anyone."

The memory obviously evoked some unpleasant feelings for Tony who seemed to be reliving the hurt. McGee noticed Tony's breathing become more laboured and saw the distress in his eyes. He tried to lighten the subject.

"I never had a favourite tree." McGee told him. "Was kinda scared of heights, even then. I was the only kid in the neighbourhood who had a tree house on the ground."

The hint of a smile appeared on Tony's lips and disappeared just as quickly as his eyes rolled back and he lost consciousness again.

Ducky had been listening to the conversation between Tony and McGee and frowned when Tony did not reply.

"Timothy?"

"He's unconscious again, Ducky," McGee replied.

"Mr Palmer, how does his wound look?" Ducky inquired.

"The surface of the wound, around the incision looks a little inflamed, Doctor," Jimmy said. "The fluid in the peritoneal cavity has built up. We will need to drain it again."

"Quite right, Mr Palmer," Ducky said his tone solemn. "Only this time, we have no choice but to wait for Jethro to arrive with the pain medication. If we attempted another lavage now, in Anthony's weakened state, the pain would kill him."

The door to the house flew opened increasing the sound of the still raging storm. Ziva stepped inside, soaked to the skin with a blue tinge to her lips. She cradled her broken arm against her chest and carried a large duffel bag of medical supplies over her good shoulder.

"Ziva!" McGee called with obvious relief. "Thank God you made it! Where's the Boss?"

Palmer helped her shrug off the duffel bag and remove her sodden coat. Her face was a picture of misery and grief.

"Ziva, what's wrong? Where's Gibbs?" McGee asked again.

"Gibbs did not make it, McGee," she said, her voice trembling from more than the cold. "He was washed down the river – I searched for 20 minutes and I could not find him."

Palmer and McGee both looked stricken and Ducky's audible gasp was heard through the speaker of the cell phone.

**--0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0--**

He opened his eyes but could see nothing. Disoriented and confused, he tried to lift his head to determine his location. A wave of nausea swept over him and he closed his eyes and breathed deeply in an attempt to ride it out. He tried to remember where he was and why he was there but the pull of the darkness was too strong. His memory returned and his final thought as he slipped into unconsciousness was, '_DiNozzo!'_

**--0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0--**


	8. Chapter 8

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

**A/N: -** This chapter and subsequent chapters contain medical jargon and procedures. I have no medical knowledge or experience (other than that gained as a patient). I have tried to be as accurate as possible and hope that any inaccuracies can be overlooked in favour of the story line.

**Chapter 8**

McGee couldn't begin to imagine a world without Gibbs. To him, the Lead Agent had always appeared invincible and he'd seen him survive shootings, even explosions. This had to be a bad dream. One look at Ziva's distraught face was enough for McGee to know that this was no dream – Gibbs may be gone for good.

With Tony still unconscious, Palmer and McGee turned their attention to Ziva. They wrapped her in warm blankets and splinted her broken arm. Her voice held no emotion as she told them of the river crossing and how Gibbs had purposely dropped into the river and been swept away trying to retrieve the other bag of medical supplies.

"This isn't your fault Ziva," McGee consoled.

"I left him, McGee. That is my fault," Ziva said flatly.

"You were given a direct order to leave," McGee corrected. "You followed that order, that's all."

Ziva was finding Gibbs' action hard to comprehend. It went against all of the training she had received as a Mossad officer.

"I just do not understand. Why would Gibbs do that? We had a plan - we had an objective. His decision was based on emotion, it was not the decision of a highly trained soldier."

"Gibbs is a Marine, Ziva. He doesn't leave his people behind," McGee said

"It is bad enough that we may have to bury one," She said softly looking at Tony's prone form. "Now we may be burying two!"

Upon hearing Ziva's words through the phone, Ducky sat heavily on the couch. He was stunned. Jethro Gibbs had been a very close friend for many years. Although Ducky was shocked to hear that he may have lost his dear friend, he was not at all surprised that Gibbs had risked his own life while trying to save the life of another. That "other" was Tony. Regaining his composure, Ducky reached for the cell phone. He was going to make damn sure that Gibbs' sacrifice was not in vain.

"Mr Palmer!" Ducky said, "Check the supplies in the bag. We need to administer some pain relief and antibiotics to Anthony as soon as possible."

Palmer immediately got to his feet to check the supplies. He found the bags of saline, plastic tubing and syringes, stethoscope and dressings. His heart sank as he realized the morphine and antibiotics must have been in the bag lost to the river.

"Doctor?" Palmer said. "The morphine and antibiotics aren't here. They must have been in the other bag."

Ducky sighed heavily, although it was unlikely, he prayed that Tony would stay sleeping for a few more hours. Without medication, the pain would be nearly intolerable. Knowing Tony badly needed fluid and electrolyte replacement, he guided Palmer through the steps of starting an IV of saline solution and setting the correct flow rate. Tony's vital signs were weakening.

**--0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0--**

The trembling of his body caused him to wake. He was soaked to the skin and numbingly cold. He took stock of his injuries and his position. He was laying face down in soft mud, with the deafening sound of the rushing river only feet away. He flexed his fingers, wrists and ankles – so far, so good. His arms and legs were cut and bruised but not seriously. His right knee was stiff and sore but the cold mud had kept the swelling down.

He manoeuvred himself into a sitting position and felt the world shift a little before it righted itself. He had sustained a deep gash above his left eye and, if the nausea and headache were any indication, he suspected a slight concussion.

He had swum as fast as he could to secure a grip on the bag as he was buffeted and tossed about by the turbulent waters. The bag had almost been his undoing when it snagged on a submerged tree branch and dragged him underwater until he thought his lungs would burst. Rule number nine had saved him again.

Somehow, he had managed to reach the riverbank. He threw the bag a safe distance from the rivers' edge before collapsing, battered and bruised. Thoroughly exhausted, he quickly succumbed to unconsciousness.

He sat for a few moments, feeling his tender ribs and grateful that he had made it to the correct side of the river. Without a rope and in his injured state, there was very little chance he could have made it back across. He checked his pocket for the dry pack containing his cell, cursing inwardly when he realised it had been lost in the river. He had no way of knowing how long he had been unconscious or if Ziva had been able to reach Tony with the other bag of supplies.

Pushing off with his good leg, he climbed to his feet. He slowly applied his weight to his right knee and found that, although painful, it would support him. Since he had lost his flashlight in the river, he felt around in the darkness and was overwhelmingly relieved when his fingers wrapped around the shoulder straps of the canvas duffel bag. He heaved it to his shoulder.

'_You better still be alive DiNozzo!'_ he thought as he started back up the river towards the road to the Kirby house.

**--0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0--**

"Thanks Ken, I appreciate this," Jenny said as she replaced the handset of her phone.

Abby was seated on the couch in Jenny's office. She had curled up her legs, hugging her knees while anxiously rocking back and forth. As Jenny approached her she shook her head from side to side, ponytails swinging wildly.

"Gibbs is not dead, Director," she said emphatically. "He's not! He wouldn't do that to us. He wouldn't do that when Tony needs him."

Jenny poured a small glass of brandy for them both.

"Here," she said offering a glass to Abby. "Colonel Warren has agreed to send a Search and Rescue Team with the Black Hawk they send for Tony. The S & R team will stay behind and begin searching at first light. They'll find him Abby."

She looked at Jenny with tear-filled eyes.

"Ziva could have found him!" she said. "Why did you order her to leave?"

Jenny inhaled deeply, trying to maintain the fragile hold on her composure.

"Abby, Ziva could have spent all night looking for Gibbs and still not found him," she explained. "Ducky said Tony would die without medical assistance. If Gibbs was here, what choice do you think he'd have made?"

Abby's eyes focused on a spot on the floor.

"Gibbs would have chosen to save Tony."

Jenny smiled sadly as she sat next to Abby on the couch. "I think so too."

**--0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0--**

Tony's condition deteriorated rapidly. He was burning with fever and muttering incoherently. He responded to pain stimulus but was unresponsive to voices or questions. His body was bathed in sweat, long legs bending and extending trying to relieve the pain. His respirations and pulse increased to dangerous levels while his eyes moved rapidly beneath the lids.

McGee, Ziva and Palmer cooled him with compresses and offered comforting words. Without pain medication, there was little else to be done until the Black Hawk arrived to medivac him to the hospital over two hours from now.

Ducky was pacing back and forth in the living room of Deputy Lewis' home and was close to wearing a path. In all his years as a medical practitioner, he had rarely felt as frustrated as he did now as he listened to Tony's low soft moans grow increasingly louder until they were more like barely contained yells.

It was the sound of those barely contained yells that struck fear into Gibbs' heart when he arrived at the Kirby home and threw open the door.

Palmer, Ziva and McGee all turned quickly at the sound of the door slamming into the wall. Gibbs stood framed by the doorway dripping with rain and barely recognizable through the layer of mud and blood that coated his face. His blue eyes scanned the room taking in the scene and quickly finding Tony's form writhing on the makeshift operating table.

"Boss!" McGee almost yelled. "Thank God you're okay! We thought you were…that is…we didn't know if….well….thank God you're okay!"

Ziva and Palmer moved to assist him with the duffel bag and his wet coat but he shrugged them off brusquely and immediately went to Tony's side.

"What's going on?" Gibbs asked placing his hand on Tony's forehead and feeling his fever blazing. "How long has he been like this?"

"About 30 minutes, Boss," McGee answered. "We need to drain his wound again but we couldn't start without the supplies in your bag."

"So start!!" Gibbs snapped.

"Now Jethro, as pleased as I am to know that you are alive, you must calm down." Ducky's voice resonated from McGee's newly charged cell. "Timothy and Mr Palmer did a splendid job caring for Anthony before you got here and I'm sure they will continue to do so."

Ducky spent the next few minutes explaining the medications, dosages and equipment Jimmy needed for the lavage. Having packed the bags himself, he knew exactly what was there. With McGee's help, they piggybacked the broad-spectrum antibiotic to the IV of saline solution. They hung the bags of fluids from a hat rack they had earlier fashioned into an IV stand.

Working quickly, they readied the plastic tubing and drainage bags, additional saline and syringes required for the lavage. Palmer took a vial of morphine and a syringe from the bag. Tony would need to be sedated and receive some pain relief prior to starting the lavage.

Palmer and Ducky discussed the morphine dosage. Ducky's primary concern was it's combined effect with the residual chloroform still in Tony's system. Too little morphine would subject him to considerable pain; too much could depress his respiratory system, causing him to stop breathing. If this happened, they did not have the necessary equipment to keep him alive until they got him to a hospital.

Ziva placed her hand on Tony's cheek. Her concern for her partner was very evident in her dark eyes. She stepped back, reluctantly, to allow Palmer room to work.

Gibbs did not leave Tony's side. He listened to the shallow, laboured sounds of his breathing and his mumbled, incoherent ramblings. Palmer administered the morphine injection just as Tony 's eyes fluttered open.

"Tony?" Gibbs said gently. "Take it easy. You're gonna be okay."

Tony frowned slightly his eyes were glassy and unfocussed as he looked at Gibbs.

"Where…where were you?" he whispered through parched lips.

Gibbs matched Tony's frown. "I got here as fast as I could. The bridge…."

Tony cut off Gibbs' reply. He shook his head and started to become agitated.

"You said…you'd come and…I waited for you." As the morphine started to take effect, Tony struggled to keep his eyes opened but his next words cut Gibbs deeply.

"Shoulda known…you wouldn't care…enough to come…" and the darkness claimed him again.

Gibbs' face remained impassive but to those who knew him well, he was visibly shaken by Tony's words.

The sternum rub had no response so Palmer began removing the butterfly clips and reopening Tony's wound, while McGee resumed his role of monitoring Tony's respirations and pulse. Both listened attentively to Ducky's clear directions.

Ziva appeared Gibbs' side wearing an NCIS jumpsuit.

"That was the fever talking, Gibbs. Tony did not know what he was saying."

Gibbs nodded briefly.

"You should change your clothes," she told him. "Palmer has brought some NCIS jumpsuits in from the van. They are not exactly in vogue but they are dry and warm."

Gibbs looked at Ziva's unfashionable attire.

"Think I'd rather stay wet," he said.

"At least go and stand by the fire. I will call the Director and Abby to let them know you are safe and that they can cancel the search and rescue. Then I will make some coffee and you can tell us how you survived your sojourn down the river, yes?" She noted the concern and exhaustion on his face and placed her hand on his arm reassuringly. "Tony is in good hands."

As she started to walk to the kitchen, she noticed the evidence jar that contained Tony's enlarged and ruptured appendix. She picked up the jar and screwed up her nose as she examined the contents.

"I do not understand why Ducky called this a cute appendix. I think it is slimy and disgusting."

She placed the jar back on the table and continued to the kitchen with McGee and Palmer exchanging a perplexed look.

As he stood in front of the fireplace, Gibbs watched the two young men at Tony's side. He marvelled at the level of dedication and care they were displaying towards Tony. He was disturbed from his reverie by a soft coughing sound and McGee's slightly panicked voice.

"Ducky, he's vomiting!"

Gibbs assisted McGee to roll Tony onto his side to stop him from aspirating. As a precaution, Ducky had advised Palmer to fasten some plastic tubing to a large syringe to act as a suctioning tool. Palmer reached for the syringe and ensured that Tony's airway and lungs remained clear. Only when they were sure his airway hadn't been compromised, did they roll Tony onto his back and complete the lavage, leaving the drains in place to avoid another build up of fluids. Once again, they wrapped Tony in warm blankets when the procedure was completed.

They had two more hours to wait until the scheduled arrival time of the Black Hawk and they were getting more and more concerned that Tony wouldn't last that long.

**--0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0—**


	9. Chapter 9

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

**A/N:** - This chapter and subsequent chapters contain medical jargon and procedures. I have no medical knowledge or experience (other than that gained as a patient). I have tried to be as accurate as possible and hope that any inaccuracies can be overlooked in favour of the story line.

**Chapter 9**

Since they now had pain relief medication, Palmer gave Ziva an injection of a small amount of morphine and placed her splinted arm in a sling. She was dozing at one end of the couch. After arguing back and forth with Ducky on the cell, Gibbs begrudgingly relented and allowed Palmer to clean and tape the deep gash above his eye, strap his knee and check his ribs. There were no breaks evident but his torso was a mess of lacerations and mottled bruises from contact with the rocks and debris in the river.

Gibbs then ordered Palmer and an equally exhausted McGee to take a break, after bestowing them with a rare but heartfelt, "Good job." They were now sleeping lightly, Palmer in an armchair and McGee on the other end of the couch.

**--0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0--**

Gibbs kept a silent vigil beside Tony's unconscious form. He thought back to the last words Tony had said to him and the look of hurt and resentment in his eyes. Gibbs was a hard taskmaster. He pushed his team to their limits and then some. He was also a man who cared deeply about his people. After all they'd been through, how could Tony think that Gibbs would deliberately let him down when he needed him the most?

Tony was taking rapid and shallow breaths. His skin was very hot to touch and he was sweating profusely. Restless and delirious he began thrashing about and throwing the blankets off. Gibbs didn't need the thermometer to know that Tony's fever had risen, but he found himself reaching for the cell to call Ducky when the thermometer showed Tony's temperature at a critical 105.1.

Ducky instructed Gibbs to remove Tony's blankets and replace them with cotton sheets so that his excess body heat could escape and to sponge him down with tepid water. Gibbs had removed the blankets and prepared the water and sponges when Palmer appeared beside him. Wordlessly, Palmer picked up a sponge and helped Gibbs as they bathed Tony's limbs, chest and abdomen, carefully avoiding his wound.

"Agent Gibbs, if you can lift his shoulders, I'll sponge his sides and his back," Palmer said.

Gibbs carefully lifted Tony's shoulders causing him to wince and groan softly at the pain the movement caused. His head lolled back onto Gibbs' chest while Palmer ran the cool sponge over him. Gibbs gently laid him back down, continuing to sponge Tony's sweaty face and hair. He leaned close to Tony's ear and said softly.

"You listen to me, DiNozzo. You _will_ get well. You will _not_ die thinking I don't care."

As much as he had tried to give them some privacy, Jimmy Palmer overheard Gibbs' whispered message. Palmer had enormous respect for Gibbs but was also quite intimidated by his gruff, no nonsense manner. Even though the older man could wilt Palmer's resolve with a steely look, Palmer felt he needed to speak up.

"Ah…Agent Gibbs." Jimmy began nervously. "I didn't mean to, Sir, but I just overheard what you said to Tony and I think you may have the wrong impression."

Gibbs looked perplexed. "What?" he asked brusquely. "You were there, you heard what he said."

Palmer almost lost his nerve but decided to push on.

"Yes, Agent Gibbs...I mean…yes I was there, not yes you don't care about Tony…I mean…"

"Palmer!!" Gibbs was losing his patience. He wasn't one to openly speak about his feelings with anyone, including this well-meaning young assistant ME.

"Agent Gibbs, Tony has been in various stages of consciousness since this afternoon," he explained. "When he _was _conscious he was usually delirious and seemed to be recalling some unpleasant moments in his childhood."

"Palmer, you're getting as bad as Ducky! What the hell are you talking about?"

"What I'm saying, Agent Gibbs is that even though Tony was looking right at you, I don't think he was seeing you at all. I think Tony thought he was speaking to..."

"His father!" Gibbs finished.

"Yes, Sir," Palmer said. "I just thought you should know."

He excused himself to pack up their supplies for their return trip on the Black Hawk. He also needed to prepare the body of Daniel Johnson (which was still in the coroner's van), for transportation back to Washington.

Gibbs watched him for a moment. He'd always thought him a nice kid, a bit on the jumpy and nervous side but bright and dedicated and Ducky thought the world of him. Today, with Tony's life in the balance, this young man had truly shown his worth.

He thought about Palmer's words. It was entirely possible that, in his delirium, Tony thought he had been speaking to his father. Most of the snippets of Tony's difficult childhood that Gibbs knew about had been revealed when the younger man had been sick, injured or drunk. With his defences down, some of the more unpleasant memories found a way to slice through the layers of pretence and nonchalance that Tony used to deny or suppress their existence.

Gibbs hoped like hell that Palmer was right but realized he may never know for sure.

**--0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0--**

Ziva woke and moved to Gibbs' side. "How is he?" she asked.

"Not good," he replied. "Can you watch him for a few minutes, I need to find out what's happening with the medivac?"

She nodded and taking Tony's hand in her own, she looked at her partner. Still burning with fever, Tony was becoming agitated – muttering and squirming beneath the sheet that was now damp with his sweat. Ziva took the face cloth from Tony's forehead, surprised at how warm it had become from his body heat. She placed the cloth in the cool water, wringing it out before replacing it on Tony's forehead. She leant in close, ran her fingers through his hair and whispered softly.

"Shhh Tony. You must rest now. We are here and we will take you home soon. Shhh." Ziva continued to speak to him in Hebrew. Gibbs watched as her soothing tone seemed to settled the younger agent.

**--0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0--**

Gibbs grabbed his cell and called Abby.

"Gibbs! I _knew_ you weren't dead. I told the Director that you wouldn't do that to us, or to Tony when he needs you so much." Her voice was trembling with worry. "How's Tony?"

"We need to get him out of here, Abs. I need you to brief me on the weather and on the medivac," he said.

He heard Abby take a large gulp of Caf-Pow to calm herself before she answered.

"The hurricane is a Category 3, Gibbs, with average wind speeds from 111-130 mph," she explained. "As you know, the eye is the calmest part of the hurricane but it is almost completely surrounded by the eye wall which is the most violent part of the hurricane and contains thunderstorms and the strongest winds. The Black Hawk will need to enter and exit the eye of the hurricane, via the break in the eye wall. It's tricky, Gibbs but Colonel Warren has assigned his best pilot and crew."

Abby continued. "Information from the Radar Specialists at Quantico is that you are currently experiencing the effects of the eye wall. When the eye moves to your location the storm will lull for about 90 minutes. That's when the Black Hawk will go in and get out. Approximately, 30-minutes from now at 2045."

"So we still have a 'go' for the medivac?" he asked.

"Yes. The Black Hawk will stop and collect Ducky first so they have a Doctor on board for Tony," Abby explained. "They should reach you by 2130 but will contact you 10 minutes out."

"We'll be ready. Thanks Abs." He had almost closed his cell when he heard her call frantically.

"Gibbs! Gibbs!" Then her voice softened as she told him. "Bring him home, 'kay?"

"We will Abs," he promised. He had almost disconnected the call a second time when he heard her call again.

"Gibbs! Gibbs!" Her voice was still soft as she said. "I'm glad you're not dead!"

"Me too, Abs," he said and snapped the cell closed.

**--0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0--**

Palmer changed the empty bag of saline and checked the drip rate on Tony's IV. He put his hand in his back pocket.

"Oh, Agent Gibbs, I thought you might like to hold on to this for Tony," Palmer said, placing the familiar knife in the palm of Gibbs' hand.

'You used _this_ to remove his appendix?" Gibbs asked.

"Yes, Sir…er…Agent Gibbs," Palmer replied. "We were lucky he had it with him. There was nothing else here that we could have used as effectively."

After wiping the sweat from Tony's face and neck, Gibbs sat looking at the knife. He remembered the day he had given it to Tony and the look of delight on the younger man's face.

"See DiNozzo?" He said to the unconscious man. "Rule number nine. I told you it would save your life one day!"

**--0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0--**

Relief swept over all of them when the call advising of the imminent arrival of the Black Hawk finally came. They collected their gear, supplies, and all evidence gathered at the scene – including the body of Daniel Johnson – and waited anxiously for the Marines to arrive.

The eye of the hurricane had arrived, significantly calming the wind and rain. The lightning and thunder had ceased temporarily.

They heard the Black Hawk moments before seeing it. It landed in the nearby field and four Marines alighted quickly, carrying two portable stretchers. Upon their arrival on the front porch one of the Marines spoke to Gibbs.

"Agent Gibbs, Colonel Warren sends his compliments, Sir," he said.

"Thank you, Sergeant," Gibbs said. "We appreciate your helping us out."

"No problem, Sir, we already have your Doctor aboard – talkative little guy, Sir," the sergeant said with a grin.

"That he is, Sergeant," Gibbs replied. "That he is."

Although his fever was still dangerously high, they wrapped Tony warmly in blankets. The Marines carefully lifted Tony onto one of the stretchers and carried him to the waiting helicopter. After everyone was aboard, including the DB, the Black Hawk lifted off and commenced the 45-minute flight to Bethesda.

Thankfully, the flight was reasonably uneventful. Ducky had given Tony the mildest of sedatives after he became disoriented and tried to pull his IV out. He slept for the rest of the journey.

Upon their arrival at Bethesda, Tony and Ziva were taken to the emergency room while Gibbs, predictably, refused treatment. After a brief examination Tony was whisked away to surgery and his anxious teammates continued their vigil in the hospital waiting room. They were thankful that he had made it this far but his condition was still listed as critical.

**--0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0—**


	10. Chapter 10

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

**A/N:-** Thank you to everyone who took the time to read my story and additional thanks to those of you who left reviews. Your support and encouragement of my first writing attempt is appreciated very much.

**Chapter 10**

The loud clumping noise of platform boots echoed from down the hospital corridor and heralded the arrival of the Goth forensic scientist. She wrapped her arms around Gibbs' neck and nuzzled her face into his shoulder while he gave her a reassuring hug.

"Tony was right! You _are_ a man who won't stay drowned!" she sobbed, referring to his previous and notorious near-drowning incident. She stepped back and punched him in the arm.

"Ow, Abs!! What was that for?" Gibbs said.

"That's for scaring me!" she replied petulantly before she stepped into his arms again and gave him a huge bone-crushing hug. Hugging her in return Gibbs said softly.

"And what was that for?"

"That's for being you and risking your life to save Tony," she answered timidly. "How is Tony?"

"Still in surgery, Abs. No news yet," he replied.

X-rays confirmed that Ziva had broken the radius bone in her arm and by the time she re-joined her teammates, she was wearing a cast.

It was just after midnight and Gibbs had almost worn a path in the floor of the waiting room. Patience was not something he had in abundance. Ducky watched his friend with concern.

"Jethro," he said, "while we're waiting for news on young Anthony, perhaps I should check that gash over your eye. I must say that it looks rather painful."

Gibbs exchanged a glance with Palmer and nodded his direction.

"Thanks, Duck but a doctor has already looked at it."

Palmer flushed with pride.

Another 30 minutes past and Gibbs' patience had expired. "What's taking so long, Duck?" he snarled.

"Now Jethro," Ducky replied. "Anthony's doctors need to be very thorough. Peritonitis is a very serious problem and they will need to treat it very aggressively in order to avoid damage to Anthony's major organs."

Ducky sighed when he saw that Gibbs was not about to accept his explanation.

"I'll go and see if there's any news."

Gibbs looked around at the others. Abby had fallen asleep propped against McGee or McGee had fallen asleep propped against Abby – it was hard to tell. Palmer was sleeping awkwardly in a plastic chair. His head leaning against the wall and his glasses were slightly askew. Ziva had curled up on the small couch, still cradling her broken arm. Although they were all physically and emotionally exhausted, not one of the team would leave the hospital until they knew that Tony would be okay.

Ducky had been gone for twenty minutes when the door opened and he returned with a tall man wearing scrubs. Gibbs was on his feet immediately. The others roused and stood at his side.

"Jethro, this is Dr Brett Marsh, Anthony's doctor," Ducky announced as the two men shook hands.

"Doctor, how is he?" Gibbs asked.

"He's quite ill, Agent Gibbs but very lucky to have made it this far," Dr Marsh replied.

The Doctor looked at McGee and Palmer. "Dr Mallard explained the situation. I don't know how you kept him alive without medication and equipment but you certainly saved his life."

"So, he's gonna be okay?" Abby asked.

"He's going to have to stay in intensive care for a week or so to allow us to closely monitor any signs of infection or organ failure," the doctor explained. "The use of chloroform, morphine and our anaesthesia, over such a short period of time has congested his lungs. We have him on a nasal cannula to assist his breathing. He woke earlier. He knows what happened and he knows he's in the ICU. His fever is still very high and we'll be working to bring that down in due course."

"Can we see him, Doctor?" McGee asked.

"He's still in Recovery and we'll keep him there for an hour or so before we move him to a room in the ICU. I'd rather he not be disturbed. He's heavily sedated, I expect him to sleep through the night," the doctor said.

"We won't wake him, Doctor, we promise," Abby pleaded. "We just really need to see him, that's all."

Dr Marsh reluctantly agreed. "Okay, but please be very quiet and only two visitors at a time. Agent Gibbs, Doctor Mallard has advised that you wish to stay with Agent DiNozzo through the night"

"That's right," Gibbs said firmly, leaving no room for negotiation.

The doctor nodded. "I'll have a nurse bring you a blanket and some pillows. Those hospital chairs can be murder on your back."

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With news that Tony would be okay, the atmosphere among the team lightened enormously. Gibbs and Ducky watched as the others spoke animatedly about their recent ordeal. Abby insisted that Palmer and McGee tell her step by gory step how they had removed Tony's appendix.

"I can not wait to read your next book, McGee," Ziva laughed. "We will read how Special Agent McGregor and Pimmy Jalmer saved the life of Special Agent Tommy, yes?"

"The best authors write about their own experiences," McGee defended. "You should always write about something you know."

"Hey!" Palmer added. "Since we _did_ save his life, do you think that Tony will finally stop with the annoying nicknames and endless teasing?"

The suggestion hung in the air for a few seconds before they all looked at each other and said, simultaneously. "Nah!"

"Tony is Tony," Abby said.

"And none of you would want him any other way," Came the voice of the Director who had just arrived at the hospital.

Looking at Gibbs and Ducky, Jenny asked. "How is he?"

Ducky explained Tony's condition and prognosis to the Director, who, like the others was very relieved.

"I'm sorry I couldn't get here earlier," Jenny said. "Agent Gibbs, Doctor Mallard, I took the liberty of completing document CJ 405 for two of your team members. I left them on your desks and would like you to sign them and return them to me by the end of the day." Ducky and Gibbs both looked pleasantly surprised and nodded their heads in agreement.

"They won't become official for a week but I have spoken with SecNav and received his verbal endorsement." Jenny turned to smile at the others. "For those of you who may not know," she said, "document CJ 405 is a request for a written commendation and I am very proud to have recommended Assistant Medical Examiner James Palmer and Special Agent Timothy McGee for courage in the line of duty in extraordinary circumstances which resulted in saving the life of a fellow agent."

Jimmy and McGee looked like bookends as their mouths hung open with surprise.

Gibbs and Ducky stepped forward to shake the hands of their subordinates. Abby smothered McGee in a huge hug while Ziva placed a kiss on Palmer's cheek. Both men turned bright red.

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Ziva and Abby walked into Tony's room in ICU. Walking to opposite sides of his bed, they each took one of his hands, careful not to disturb the IV lines. His stillness unsettled them both – Tony was never still.

Ziva cradled his face in her hand, disturbed by the heat of his fever. Leaning close to him she whispered.

"Sleep well, my little hairy butt. I will see you tomorrow." She kissed him gently on the cheek and left the room.

Abby couldn't hold back her tears as they tracked lines of dark mascara down her face.

"You get better soon, Mister," she said softly. "It's too quiet around here without you."

She leaned forward and placed a kiss on his forehead, then wiped away the dark lipstick mark it left. "I'll come back tomorrow, okay?"

As she turned to leave, something on the bedside table caught her attention. She picked up the jar that contained Tony's appendix and examined it. Looking around to ensure no one was watching, she surreptitiously placed the jar into her skull and cross bones blazoned handbag. Smiling mischievously to herself, she quietly left the room.

Palmer and McGee stood at the door to Tony's room.

"You think he looks better?" McGee asked Palmer.

"It's hard to tell," Palmer replied quietly. "I don't think he's in any pain at the moment and he's finally resting comfortably."

They moved to Tony's bedside.

"Hey Tony," McGee said softly. "I know you won't remember this conversation but while I have the opportunity, I'd like to say something. I know it was me who suggested we use your favourite knife to cut out your own appendix but I really did have your best interests at heart."

Jimmy frowned. "He likes the knife that much?" he asked.

McGee grimaced. "Gibbs gave it to him. It's one of his most prized possessions. He'd rank it behind his Mustang but just in front of his DVD collection, his hair products and little black book."

Jimmy looked worried. He leant forward and whispered. "Tony, while we're confessing. I told you that I had performed appendectomies on two previous occasions. I may have forgotten to mention that they were both cadavers for a prac class at Med School. I'm sure that there'll be no hard feelings and we'll have a big laugh about this soon."

Jimmy stood up straight and looked at McGee. "What do you think?"

McGee pursed his lips in thought. "I think that, even though we saved his life, as soon as he is back on his feet – there _will_ be reprisals."

Ducky and Jenny walked quietly into the room. Ducky immediately took Tony's medical chart from its position at the end of his bed. He nodded his head in silent agreement as he perused the notes. Satisfied that Tony was getting the best of care, he moved to his side and gently patted Tony's forearm.

"Well, my boy," he whispered. "You certainly gave us quite a scare. Your doctors seem to have everything under control. I'm sure you'll be charming the pretty nurses in no time."

Jenny gently brushed back the strands of hair that fever and sweat had stuck to Tony's brow. "He's very warm, Ducky," she said worriedly.

"A fever is an important part of the body's defence against infection, my dear Director," Ducky said. "When Anthony's appendix ruptured his body was exposed to highly toxic bacteria. Although the Doctors will need to ensure that his fever doesn't get too high, it is working _for_ Anthony, not against him."

Jenny nodded. "We should go," she said to Ducky. Placing a hand on Tony's shoulder she said softly. "I'll come back to see you when you're awake. I might even bring you some phalaenopsis orchids with some of those green things attached to them."

As they moved towards the door, Ducky frowned.

"I think the word you're looking for, Director, is stems," he said, not understanding the private joke. "Fascinating things stems, not only do they support the plant, they act like a plumbing system, conducting water and nutrients from the roots….."

Jenny and Ducky said goodnight to Gibbs as they passed him in the corridor. Ducky barely drew breath as he described the biology of a plant in great detail during their walk to the car park.

When Gibbs arrived at the door to Tony's room, a nurse was just leaving. She had placed pillows and blankets for him on the chairs in the room.

"I'm going to dim the lights in here now," she said. "That will make it a little easier for you both to rest." She looked at Tony's sleeping form. "There are four nurses on duty here tonight. One of us will be in and out of here, regularly checking on him. We'll try not to disturb you too much."

"I'm fine," Gibbs replied. "Just do whatever you need to."

Throughout the night, a nurse came into the room every 15 minutes. They checked Tony's vitals, made minor adjustments to the drip rate of his IV's and the oxygen flow rate of his nasal cannula, then made notations on his chart. They checked his wound and his drains and looked concerned when they saw that his temperature had not dropped as much as they had hoped. Two pretty nurses returned with a basin of water, washcloths, towels and a syringe. One of them injected the contents of the syringe into the IV.

"What was that?" Gibbs asked.

"Just something to help bring his fever down a little," one of the nurses replied. "If we let it get too high, he could start to convulse."

Seeing the look of concern deepen on Gibbs' face, the nurse added. "Try not to worry; with all he's been through, he's doing quite well."

The other nurse wrung out the washcloths and they quickly and efficiently wiped them over Tony's face, neck, limbs and body and placed a couple of cold packs behind his neck and under his armpits. Gibbs couldn't help thinking how much Tony would have enjoyed their attention had he been conscious.

They stripped the blanket off the bed and folded it neatly at the foot, leaving only the sheet covering him. "If you notice him getting cold or shivering, feel free to put the blanket over him again," one nurse said as they gathered their things and left the room for another 15 minutes.

Gibbs couldn't sleep. He watched Tony for hours observing the rise and falls of his chest and listening to his raspy breathing. His skin was still slicked with sweat and very pale. Tony's words kept echoing in his head.

"Shoulda known you wouldn't care enough to come."

Was Palmer right? Was Tony so out of his head with pain and fever that he didn't know what he was saying or who he was saying it to? Or had Gibbs been so closed off with his own feelings that those he cared about most had no idea.

He wasn't the type of man who gushed compliments or was known for open gestures of affection but either was DiNozzo. Between them they had three ex-wives and an absolute plethora of short-term relationships that laid testimony to that.

Since he had hired DiNozzo over seven years ago, they had _always_ watched each other's backs.

Gibbs had been there for the concussions, the push from the aeroplane, the broken bones, times when he was drugged or kidnapped or shot. He'd been there for successful undercover ops and those that went dreadfully wrong. He'd been there after the beatings, when he was twice wrongly accused of murder and he'd been there when he had the damn plague.

He'd even been there when the heating in his apartment went out or he had no plumbing. He'd been there for countless stakeouts and difficult cases that exhausted them both physically and emotionally. He'd been there when they lost fellow agents in the line of duty, and when they mourned the loss of a much-loved partner and friend. _'Isn't that caring?' _Gibbs kept asking himself.

Gibbs sensed rather than heard the subtle change in Tony's breathing. He sat in the darkened room and watched as Tony fidgeted a little and tried to moisten his lips with his dry tongue. Without opening his eyes Tony asked in a whispered voice, weak with fever.

"Boss, can I…can I have a drink?"

Gibbs poured a glass of ice water from the jug on the bedside table. He placed his hand behind Tony's head and gently lifted it until he felt the straw at his lips.

"Small sips, Tony," Gibbs said softly.

When Tony had finished, Gibbs placed the cup back on the table.

"Thanks, Boss," he whispered, his eyes still closed.

Gibbs' brow furrowed as he watched the younger man sink back against the pillows. Tony still hadn't opened his eyes, Gibbs hadn't made a sound and the nasal cannula would have hindered the younger man's unusually sharp sense of smell. Curiosity got the best of him.

"How'd you know I was here, Tony?" he asked.

Tony's answer was so quiet that Gibbs almost missed it.

"I just had…had surgery, I'm in… the ICU. Where… else would you be?"

And there it was!! With that one statement, whispered just before he had fallen back into a deep drug-induced sleep, Tony had confirmed and reassured Gibbs that he knew how much the older man cared about him.

Gibbs shook his head and smiled at the sleeping man.

"Damn straight, DiNozzo!" he said. "Where else would I be?"

**THE END**

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**A/N:- I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, L**


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